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CONSTANCE    FEMMOKK    WOOLSON 


JUPITER    LIGHTS 


By 


Constance  Fenimore  Woolson 


NEW  YORK  AND   LONDON 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

1900 


Copyright,  1889,  by  HARPER  k  BROTHERS. 


All  rights  reserved. 


JUPITER  LIGHTS. 


i. 

"Ix's  extraordinary  navigation,  certainly,"  said 
Miss  Bruce. 

"  Oh,  mem,  if  you  please,  isn't  it  better  than  the 
bother?"  answered  Meadows,  respectfully. 

Meadows  was  Miss  Bruce's  maid;  one  could  have 
told  that  she  was  English  (even  if  one  had  not 
heard  her  speak)  from  her  fresh,  rosy  complexion, 
her  smooth  hair  put  plainly  and  primly  back  from 
her  forehead,  her  stiff -backed  figure  with  its  elbows 
out,  and  her  large,  thick-soled  boots. 

"  I  don't  mind  being  'umped-up  on  the  bank,  miss, 
if  you  please,"  she  went  on  in  her  sweet  voice,  drop 
ping  her  h's  (and  adding  them,  too)  in  unexpected 
places.  "  It's  those  great  waves  we  'ad  last  week, 
mem,  if  you  please,  that  seemed  so  horful." 

"  I  am  sorry  you  will  have  to  see  them  again  so 
soon,"  Miss  Bruce  answered,  kindly. 

For  Meadows  was  to  return  to  England  immedi 
ately;  she  was  accompanying  the  American  lady  for 
the  journey  only.  Miss  Bruce  was  not  rich;  in  her 
own  land  she  did  not  intend  to  give  herself  the  lux 
ury  of  a  lady's-maid — an  indulgence  more  unusual 
1 


2  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

in  the  great  Republic  (at  least  the  northern  half  of 
it)  than  fine  clothes,  finer  houses,  or  the  finest  dia- 
mons. 

The  little  steamboat  which  carried  these  travel 
lers  was  aground  in  a  green  plain,  a  grassy,  reedy 
prairie,  which  extended  unbroken  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach  on  all  sides  save  one;  here  there  was,  at 
some  distance,  a  bank  or  shore  of  dark  land,  dark  in 
comparison  with  the  green.  Beyond  this  shore — 
and  one  could  easily  see  over  it — stretched  the  sea, 
"  the  real  sea,"  as  Miss  Bruce  called  it,  "and  not  all 
this  grass  !"  It  was  this  remark  of  hers  which  had 
drawn  out  the  protest  of  poor  Meadows. 

Miss  Bruce  had  crossed  from  England  to  New 
York;  she -had  then  journeyed  southward,  also  by 
sea,  to  Savannah,  and  from  that  leafy  town,  as  fair 
as  is  its  name,  she  had  continued  her  voyage  in  this 
little  boat,  the  Altamaha,  by  what  was  called  the 
Inland  Route,  a  queer,  amusing  passage,  winding  in 
and  out  among  the  sounds  and  bays,  the  lagoons  and 
marsh  channels  of  the  coast,  the  ocean  almost  always 
in  sight  on  the  left  side,  visible  over  the  low  islands 
which  constantly  succeeded  each  other,  and  which 
formed  the  barrier  that  kept  out  the  "real  sea,"  that 
ravaging,  ramping,  rolling,  disturbing  surface  upon 
whose  terrific  inequalities  the  Inland  Route  relied 
for  its  own  patronage.  There  were  no  inequalities 
here,  certainly,  unless  one  counted  as  such  the  sen 
sation  which  Meadows  had  described  as  "  being 
'(imped  up."  The  channel  was  very  narrow,  and  as 
it  wound  with  apparent  aimlessness  hither  and  thith 
er  in  the  salt-marsh,  it  made  every  now  and  then  such 
a  short  turn,  doubling  upon  itself,  that  the  steam 
er,  small  as  she  was,  could  only  pass  it  by  running 


JUPJTEE   LIGHTS.  3 

ashore,  and  then  allowing  her  bows  to  be  hauled 
round  ignominiously  by  the  creAv  in  a  row-boat; 
while  thus  ashore,  one  side  half  out  of  water,  her 
passengers,  sitting  on  that  side,  had  the  sensation 
which  the  English  girl  had  pictured.  At  present 
the  Altamaha  had  not  run  herself  aground  purpose 
ly,  but  by  accident;  the  crew  did  not  descend  to  the 
row-boat  this  time,  but,  coming  up  on  deck,  armed 
with  long  poles,  whose  ends  they  inserted  in  the 
near  bank  with  an  air  of  being  accustomed  to  it, 
they  shoved  the  little  craft  into  deep  water  with  a 
series  of  pushes  which  kept  time  to  their  chorus  of 

"  Ger-long  !   Ger-long  !  Mo-ses  !" 

"  I  don't  see  how  we  are  to  get  on  here  at  all  at 
night,"  said  Miss  Bruce. 

But  before  night  the  marsh  ended  as  suddenly  as 
it  had  begun,  and  the  Altamaha  was  gliding  onward 
again  between  banks  equally  low  and  near,  but  made 
of  solid  earth,  not  reeds.  The  sun  sank  in  the  west, 
the  gorgeous  colors  of  the  American  sunset  flamed  in 
the  sky.  The  returning  American  welcomed  them. 
She  was  not  happy;  she  was  as  far  as  possible  from 
being  what  is  called  amiable;  but  for  the  mtfment 
she  admired,  forgetting  her  own  griefs.  Then  the 
after-glow  faded;  Meadows  brought  a  shawl  from 
their  tiny  cabin  and  folded  it  round  her  mistress;  it 
was  the  23d  of  December,  and  the  evening  air  was 
cool,  but  not  cold.  By-and-by  in  the  dusky  twilight 
a  gleam  shone  out  ahead,  like  an  immense  star. 

"  What  is  that,  captain  ?"  Miss  Bruce  asked,  as 
this  official  happened  to  pass  near  her  chair. 

"  That  ?     Jupiter  Light." 

"Then  we  must  be  near  Warwick?"     She  gave 


4  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

to  the  name  its  English  pronunciation,  the  only  one 
she  knew. 

The  captain  declined  to  say  whether  they  were 
near  it  or  not,  as  it  was  a  place  he  had  never  heard 
of.  "  The  next  landing  is  War-wick,"  he  announced, 
impersonally,  pronouncing  the  name  according  to  its 
spelling. 

"So  near?"  said  Miss  Bruce,  rising. 

"No  hurry.     Ain't  there  yet." 

And  so  it  proved.  A  moon  rose,  and  with  it  a 
mist.  The  Altamaha,  ceasing  her  nosing  progress 
through  the  little  channels,  turned  sharply  eastward, 
and  seemed  suddenly  to  have  entered  the  ocean,  for 
great  waves  began  to  toss  her  and  knock  her  about 
with  more  and  more  violence,  until  at  last  the  only 
steady  thing  in  sight  was  the  blazing  star  of  Jupiter 
Light,  Avhich  still  shone  calmly  ahead.  After  half 
an  hour  of  this  rough  progress  a  low  beach  present 
ed  itself  through  the  mist,  and  the  blazing  star  dis 
appeared,  its  place  being  taken  by  a  spectral  tower, 
tall  and  white,  which  stood  alone  at  the  end  of  a 
long  curving  tongue  of  sand.  The  steamer,  Avith 
due  caution,  drew  near  a  lonely  little  pier. 

"  It  isn't  much  of  a  place,  then  ?"  said  Miss  Bruce, 
as  the  captain,  in  the  exigencies  of  making  a  safe 
landing  Avith  his  cockle-shell,  again  paused  for  a  mo 
ment  near  her  chair. 

"Place?  Post-office  and  Rornney ;  that's  all. 
Slacken  off  that  line  there — you  hear?  Slacken,  I 
tell  you  !" 

A  moment  later  the  traveller,  having  made  her 
way  with  difficulty  through  the  little  boat's  dark, 
wet,  hissing  loAver  regions,  emerged,  and  crossed  .1 
plank  to  the  somewhat  safer  footing  beyond. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  5 

"  Is  this  Cicely  ?"  she  asked,  as  a  small  figure  came 
to  meet  her. 

"  Yes,  I  am  Cicely." 

Eve  Bruce  extended  her  hand.  But  Cicely  put 
up  her  face  for  a  warmer  greeting. 

"  Are  those  your  trunks  ?  Oh,  you  have  brought 
some  one  with  you  ?" 

"  It's  only  Meadows,  my  maid  ;  she  goes  back  to 
morrow  when  the  boat  returns." 

"  There's  room  for  her,  if  you  mean  that ;  the 
house  is  large  enough  for  anything.  I  was  only  won 
dering  what  our  people  would  make  of  her  ;  they 
have  never  seen  a  white  servant  in  their  lives." 

"  You  didn't  bring — the  baby  ?"  asked  Eve  Bruce. 

"  Jack  ?     Oh,  no  ;  Jack's  asleep." 

Eve  quivered  at  the  name. 

"Are  you  cold?"  said  Cicely.  "We'll  start  as 
soon  as  that  hissing  boat  gets  off.  I  hope  you  don't 
mind  riding  behind  a  mule  ?  Oh,  look  !"  and  she 
seized  her  companion's  arm.  "  Uncle  Abrani  is 
shocked  that  your  maid — what  did  you  call  her — 
Fields?  —  should  be  carrying  anything  —  a  white 
lady,  as  he  supposes  ;  and  he  is  trying  to  take  the 
bag  away  from  her.  She's  evidently  frightened  ; 
Pomp  and  Plato  haven't  as  many  clothes  on  as  they 
might  have,  I  acknowledge.  Oh,  do  look  !" 

Eve,  still  quivering,  glanced  mechanically  in  the 
direction  indicated. 

A  short  negro,  an  old  man  with  abnormally  long 
arms,  was  endeavoring  to  take  from  Meadows's  grasp 
a  small  hand-bag  which  she  was  carrying.  Again 
and  again  he  tried,  and  the  girl  repulsed  him.  Two 
more  negroes  approached,  and  lifted  one  of  the 
trunks  which  she  was  jniardinsr.  She  followed  tins 


0  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

trunk  ;  and  now  Uncle  Abram,  coming  round  on  the 
other  side,  tried  to  get  possession  of  a  larger  bag 
which  she  held  in  her  left  hand.  She  wrenched  it 
from  him  several  times  desperately,  and  then,  as 
he  still  persisted,  she  used  it  as  a  missile  over  the 
side  of  his  head,  and  began  to  shriek  and  run. 

The  noise  of  the  hissing  steam  prevented  Miss 
Bruce  from  calling  to  her  distraced  handmaid. 

Cicely  laughed  and  laughed.  "I  didn't  expect 
anything  half  so  funny,"  she  said. 

The  little  Altamaha  now  backed  out  from  the 
pier  into  rough  water  again,  and  the  hissing  ceased. 
Besides  the  dark  heaving  waves,  the  tall  light-house, 
and  the  beach,  there  was  now  nothing  to  be  seen 
but  a  row  of  white  sand-hills  which  blocked  the 
view  towards  the  north. 

"This  is  the  sea-shore,  isn't  it?"  said  Eve.  As 
she  asked  her  question  her  voice  had  in  her  own  ears 
a  horribly  false  sound  ;  she  was  speaking  merely  for 
the  sake  of  saying  something  ;  Cicely's  "  I  didn't 
expect  anything  half  so  funny "  had  hurt  her  like 
the  edge  of  a  knife. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  this  isn't  the  sea  ;  this  is  the  Sound," 
Cicely  answered.  "The  sea  is  round  on  the  other 
side.  You  will  hear  it  often  enough  at  Romney  ;  it 
booms  dreadfully  after  a  storm." 

Plato  and  Pomp  now  emerged  from  the  mist,  each 
leading  a  mule  ;  one  of  these  animals  was  attached 
to  a  wagon  which  had  two  seats,  and  the  other  to  a 
rough  cart. 

"  Will  you  get  in,  please  ?"  said  Cicely,  going 
towards  the  wagon.  "I  reckon  your  maid  had  bet 
ter  corne  with  us." 

"Meadows!  Meadows!"  called  Miss  Bruce.  "Nev- 


JUPITER  LIGHTS.  7 

er  mind  the  luggage  ;  it  is  quite  safe.  You  arc  to 
come  with  us  in  this  wagon." 

"  Yes,  mem,"  responded  the  English  voice.  The 
girl  had  ceased  running  ;  but  she  still  stood  guard 
over  the  trunks.  "And  shall  I  bring  the  dressing- 
bags  with  me,  mem  ?"  she  added. 

"She  is  bringing  them  whether  or  no,"  said  her 
mistress  ;  "I  knew  she  would.  She  likes  to  pretend 
that  one  contains  a  gold-mounted  dressing-case  and 
the  other  a  jewel-casket  ;  she  is  accustomed  to  such 
things,  and  considers  them  the  proper  appendages 
of  a  lady."  Her  voice  still  had  to  herself  a  forced 
sound.  But  Cicely  noticed  nothing. 

The  two  ladies  climbed  into  the  wagon  and  placed 
themselves  on  the  back  seat ;  Meadows,  still  hugging 
the  supposed  treasures,  mounted  gingerly  to  her 
place  beside  Uncle  Abram,  disarmed  a  little  by  his 
low  brows  ;  and  then,  after  some  persuasion,  the 
mule  was  induced  to  start,  the  cart  with  the  luggage 
following  behind,  Plato  and  Pomp  beside  it.  The 
road  was  deeply  covered  with  sand  ;  both  mules 
could  do  no  more  than  walk.  At  last,  after  passing 
the  barrier  of  sand-hills,  they  came  to  firmer  ground; 
bushes  began  to  appear,  and  then  low  trees.  The 
trees  all  slanted  westward. 

"The  wind,"  Cicely  explained. 

The  drive  lasted  half  an  hour.  "  Meadows,  put  down 
those  bags,"  said  Eve  ;  "  they  are  too  heavy  for  you. 
But  not  too  near  Mrs.  Bruce — to  trouble  her." 

The  wagon  was  passing  between  two  high  gate 
posts  (there  was  no  gate)  ;  it  entered  an  avenue  bor 
dered  with  trees  whose  boughs  met  overhead,  shut 
ting  out  the  moonlight.  But  Uncle  Abram  knew 
the  way  ;  and  so  did  the  mule,  who  conducted  hus 


8  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

wagon  over  the  remaining  space,  and  up  to  the  porch 
of  a  large  low  house,  in  a  sudden  wild  gallop.  "  Hi- 
yi !"  said  Uncle  Abram,  warningly  ;  "All  ri',  den, 
ef  yer  wanter,"  he  added,  rattling  the  reins.  "  Lip- 
pity-clip  !" 

The  visitor's  eyes  perceived  lights,  an  open  door, 
and  two  figures  waiting  within.  The  wagon  stopped, 
and  Meadows  dismounted  from  her  perch.  But 
Cicely,  before  following  her,  put  her  face  close  to 
Eve's,  and  whispered  :  "  I'd  better  tell  you  now,  so 
that  you  won't  call  me  that  again — before  the  others  : 
I'm  not  Mrs.  Bruce  any  longer  ;  my  name  is  Morri 
son.  I  married  Ferdinand  Morrison  six  months  ago." 
After  this  stupefying  declaration  she  pressed  Eve's 
hand,  and,  jumping  lightly  to  the  ground,  called  out, 
"  Bring  the  steps,  some  of  you." 

There  was  a  sudden  dispersion  of  the  group  of 
negroes  near  the  porch  ;  a  horse-block  with  a  flight 
of  ste-ps  attached  was  brought,  and  placed  in  position 
for  the  visitor's  descent.  It  appeared  that  she  needed 
this  assistance,  for  she  had  remained  motionless  in 
the  wagon,  making  no  effort  to  follow  Cicely's  ex 
ample.  Now  she  descended,  jealously  aided  by 
Meadows,  who  had  retained  but  one  clear  idea  amid 
all  these  bewilderments  of  night-drives  Avith  half- 
dressed  blacks  and  mad  mules  through  a  desert  of 
sand,  and  that  was  to  do  all  in  her  power  for  the  un 
fortunate  lady  whom  for  the  moment  she  was  serv 
ing  ;  for  what  must  her  sufferings  be — to  come  from 
Hayl'mg  Hall  to  this  ! 

"  Here  is  Eve,"  Cicely  said,  leading  the  visitor  up 
the  steps. 

The  white-haired  man  and  the  tall  woman  who 
had  been  waiting  within,  came  forward. 


JUPITER  LIGHTS.  9 

"  Grandpa,"  said  Cicely,  by  way  of  introduction. 
"And  Aunt  Sabrina." 

"  My  father,  Judge  Abercrombie,"  said  the  tall 
lady,  correctingly.  Then  she  put  her  arms  round 
Eve  and  kissed  her.  "  You  are  very  welcome,  ray 
dear.  But  how  cold  your  hands  are,  even  through 
your  gloves  !  Dilsey,  make  a  fire." 

"  I  am  not  cold,"  Eve  answered. 

But  she  looked  so  ill  that  the  judge  hastily  offered 
her  his  arm. 

She  did  not  accept  it.  "  It  is  nothing,"  she  said. 
Anger  now  came  to  her  aid,  Cicely's  announcement 
had  stunned  her.  "  I  am  perfectly  well,"  she  went 
on,  in  a  clear  voice.  "It  has  been  a  long  voyage, 
and  that,  you  know,  is  tiresome.  But  now  that  it 
is  over,  I  shall  soon  be  myself  again,  and  able  to 
continue  my  journey." 

"  Continue  !  Are  you  going  any  further,  then  ?" 
inquired  Miss  Abercrombie,  mildly.  "  I  had  hoped 
— we  have  all  hoped — that  you  would  spend  a  long 
time  with  us."  Miss  Abercrombie  had  a  soft  voice 
with  melancholy  cadences;  her  tones  had  no  rising 
inflections;  all  her  sentences  died  gently  away. 

"  You  are  very  kind.  It  will  be  impossible,"  Miss 
Bruce  responded,  briefly. 

While  speaking  these  words  they  had  passed  down 
the  hall  and  entered  a  large  room  on  the  right.  A 
negro  woman  on  her  knees  was  hastily  lighting  a 
fire  on  the  hearth,  and,  in  another  moment,  the  brill 
iant  blaze,  leaping  up,  made  a  great  cheer.  Cicely 
had  disappeared.  Judge  Abercrombie,  discomfited 
by  the  visitor's  manner,  rolled  forward  an  arm-chair 
vaguely,  and  then  stood  rubbing  his  hands  by  the 
fire,  while  his  daughter  began  to  untie  Miss  Bruce's 
bonnet  strings. 


10  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  Thanks;  I  will  not  take  it  off  now.  Later,  when 
I  go  to  my  room."  And  the  visitor  moved  away 
from  the  friendly  fingers.  Miss  Sabrina  was  very 
near-sighted.  She  drew  her  eye-glasses  furtively 
from  her  pocket,  and,  turning  her  back  for  an  in 
stant,  put  them  on;  she  wished  to  have  a  clearer 
view  of  John  Bruce's  sister.  She  saw  before  her  a 
woman  of  thirty  (as  she  judged  her  to  be;  in  reality 
Eve  was  twenty-eight),  tall,  broad-shouldered,  slen 
der,  with  golden  hair  and  a  very  white  face.  The 
eyes  were  long  and  rather  narrow;  they  were  dark 
blue  in  color,  and  they  were  not  pleasant  eyes — so 
Miss  Sabrina  thought;  their  expression  was  both 
angry  and  cold.  The  cheeks  were  thin,  the  outline 
of  the  features  bold.  The  mouth  was  distinctly 
ugly,  the  full  lips  prominent,  the  expression  sullen. 
At  this  moment  Cicely  entered,  carrying  a  little 
child,  a  boy  of  two  years,  attired  only  in  his  little 
white  night-gown;  his  blue  eyes  were  brilliant  with 
excitement,  his  curls,  rumpled  by  sleep,  was  flat 
tened  down  on  one  side  of  his  head  and  much 
Huffed  up  on  the  other.  The  young  mother  came 
running  across  the  slippery  floor,  and  put  him  into 
Miss  Bruce's  arms.  "There  he  is,"  she  said — 
"there's  your  little  Jack.  He  knows  you;  I  have 
talked  to  him  about  you  scores  of  times." 

The  child,  half  afraid,  put  up  a  dimpled  hand  and 
stroked  Eve's  cheek.  "Auntie?"  he  lisped,  inquir 
ingly.  Then,  after  inspecting  her  carefully,  still 
keeping  up  the  gentle  little  stroke,  he  announced 
with  decision,  "Ess;  Aunty  Eve  !" 

Eve  drew  him  close,  and  hid  her  face  on  his  bright 
hair.  Then  she  rose  hurriedly,  holding  him  in  hoi- 
arms,  and,  with  an  involuntary  motion,  moved  away 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  11 

from  Cicely,  looking  about  the  room  as  if  in  search  of 
another  place,  and  finally  taking  refuge  beside  Miss 
Sabrina,  drawing  a  low  chair  towards  her  with  the 
same  unseeing  action  and  sinking  into  it,  the  baby 
held  to  her  breast. 

Tall  Miss  Sabrina  seemed  to  understand;  she  put 
one  arm  round  their  guest.  Cicely,  thus  deserted, 
laughed.  Then  she  went  to  her  grandfather,  put 
her  arm  in  his,  and  they  left  the  room  together. 
When  the  door  had  closed  after  them,  Eve  raised 
her  eyes.  "  He  is  the  image  of  J&ck  !"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  answered  Miss  Sabrina.  "And 
I  knew  how  it  would  affect  you,  my  dear.  But  I 
think  it  is  a  comfort  that  he  does  look  like  him; 
don't  you?  And  now  you  must  not  talk  any  more 
about  going  away,  but  stay  here  with  us  and  love 
him." 

"  Stay  !"  said  Eve.  She  rose,  and  made  a  motion 
as  if  she  were  going  to  give  the  child  to  her  com 
panion.  But  little  Jack  put  up  his  hand  again,  and 
stroked  her  cheek;  he  was  crooning  meanwhile  to 
himself  composedly  a  little  song  of  his  own  inven 
tion;  it  was  evident  that  he  would  never  be  afraid 
of  her  again.  Eve  kissed  him.  "  Do  you  think  she 
would  give  him  to  me?"  she  asked,  hungrily.  "  She 
cannot  care  for  him — not  as  I  do." 

Miss  Sabrina  drew  herself  up  (in  the  excess  of  her 
sympathy,  as  well  as  near-sightedness,  she  had  been 
leaning  so  far  forward  that  her  flat  breast  had  rested 
almost  on  her  knees).  "  Give  up  her  child — her  own 
child?  My  niece?  I  think  not;  I  certainly  think 
not."  She  took  off  her  glasses  and  put  them  in  her 
pocket  decisively. 

"  The  n  I  shall  take  him  from  her.    And  you  must 


12  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

help  me.  What  will  she  care  in  a  month  from  now 
— a  year?  She  has  already  forgotten  his  father." 

Miss  Sabrina  was  still  angry.  But  she  herself  had 
not  liked  her  niece's  second  marriage.  "  The  sim 
plest  way  would  be  to  stay  here  for  the  present," 
she  said,  temporizing. 

"Stay  here?     Now?     How  can  you  ask  it?" 

Tears  rose  in  the  elder  lady's  eyes;  she  began  to 
wipe  them  away  clandestinely  one  by  one  with  her 
long  taper  finger.  "It's  a  desolate  place  now,  I 
know;  but  it's  very  peaceful.  The  gyarden  is  pret 
ty.  And  we  hoped  that  you  wouldn't  mind.  Wo 
even  hoped  that  you  would  like  it  a  little — the  child 
being  here.  We  would  do  all  we  could.  Of  course 
I  know  it  isn't  much." 

These  murmured  words  in  the  melancholy  voice 
seemed  to  rouse  in  Eve  Bruce  an  even  more  stormy 
passion  than  before.  She  went  to  Miss  Sabrina  and 
took  hold  of  her  shoulder.  "  Do  you  think  I  can 
stand  seeing  him"  she  demanded — "  here — in  Jack's 
place  ?  If  I  could,  I  would  go  to-night."  Turning 
away,  she  broke  into  tearless  sobs.  "Oh  Jack — 
Jack—" 

Light  dawned  at  last  in  Sabrina  Abercrombie's 
mind.  "You  mean  Mr.  Morrison?''  she  said,  hur 
riedly  rising.  "  You  didn't  know,  then  ?  Cicely 
didn't  tell  you  ?" 

"She  told  me  that  she  had  married  again;  noth 
ing  more.  Six  months  ago.  She  let  me  come  here 
— you  let  me  come  here — without  knowing  it." 

"  Oh,  I  thought  you  knew  it,"  said  Miss  Sabrina, 
in  distress.  "  I  did  not  like  the  marriage  myself, 
Miss  Bruce;  I  assure  you  I  did  not.  I  was  very  fond 
of  John,  and  it  seemed  too  sudden.  If  she  had  only 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  13 

wailed  the  year — and  two  years  would  have  been 
so  much  more  appropriate.  I  go  there  very  often — 
to  John's  grave — indeed  I  do;  it  is  as  dear  to  me  as 
the  graves  of  my  own  family,  and  I  keep  the  grass 
cut  very  carefully;  I  will  show  you.  You  remem 
ber  when  I  wrote  you  that  second  time  ?  I  feared 
it  then,  though  I  was  not  sure,  and  I  tried  to  pre 
pare  you  a  little  by  saying  that  the  baby  was  now 
your  chief  interest,  naturally.  And  he  wasn't  going 
to  be  married,"  she  added,  becoming  suddenly  inco 
herent,  and  taking  hold  of  her  throat  with  little  rubs 
of  her  thumb  and  forefinger  as  Eve's  angry  eyes  met 
hers;  "at  least,  not  that  we  knew.  I  did  not  say 
more,  because  I  was  not  sure,  Miss  Bruce.  But  after 
it  had  really  happened,  I  supposed  of  course  that 
Cicely  wrote  to  you." 

"She!" 

"  But  Mr.  Morrison  is  not  here  ;  he  is  not  here,  and 
never  has  been.  She  met  him  in  Savannah,  and  mar 
ried  him  there  ;  it  was  at  a  cousin's.  But  she  only 
stayed  with  him  for  a  few  months,  and  we  fear  that 
it  is  not  a  very  happy  marriage.  He  is  in  South 
America  at  present,  and  you  know  how  far  away 
that  is.  I  haven't  the  least  idea  when  he  is  coming 
back." 

The  door  at  the  end  of  the  room  opened.  Cicely's 
little  figure  appeared  on  the  threshold.  Miss  Sabrina, 
who  seemed  to  know  who  it  was  by  intuition,  as  she 
could  see  nothing  at  that  distance,  immediately  be 
gan  to  whisper.  "  Of  course  we  don't  know  that  it 
is" an  unhappy  marriage  ;  but  as  she  came  back  to  us 
so  soon,  it  struck  us  so — it  made  that  impression ; 
wouldn't  it  have  made  the  same  upon  you?  She 
must  have  suffered  extremely,  and  so  we  ought  to  be 


14  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

doubly  kind  to  her."  And  she  laid  her  hand  with  a 
warning  pressure  on  Eve's  arm. 

"I  am  not  likely  to  be  unkind  as  long  as  there  is 
the  slightest  hope  of  getting  this  child  away  from 
her,"  answered  Eve.  "  For  she  is  the  mother,  isn't 
she  ?  She  couldn't  very  well  have  palmed  off  some 
other  baby  on  you,  for  Jack  himself  was  here  then,  I 
know.  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid,  I  shall  defer  to 
her,  yield  to  her,  grovel  to  her  !"  She  bent  her  head 
and  kissed  the  baby's  curls.  But  her  tone  was  so 
bitter  that  poor  Miss  Sabrina  shrank  away. 

Cicely  had  called  to  them,  "  Supper  is  ready."  She 
remained  where  she  was  at  the  end  of  the  long  room, 
holding  the  door  open  with  her  hand. 


II. 

THE  father  of  John  and  Eva  Bruce  was  an  officer 
in  the  United  States  army.  His  wife  had  died  when 
Eve  was  born.  Captain  Bruce  brought  up  his  chil 
dren  as  well  as  he  could  ;  he  would  not  separate  him 
self  from  them,  and  so  he  carried  them  about  with 
him  to  the  various  military  stations  to  which  he  was 
ordered.  When  his  boy  was  sixteen,  an  opportunity 
presented  itself  to  him :  an  old  friend,  Thomas  Ash 
ley,  who  was  established,  and  well  established,  in 
London,  offered  to  take  the  lad,  finish  his  education, 
and  then  put  him  into  the  house,  as  he  called  it,  the 
house  being  the  place  of  business  of  the  wealthy 
English-American  shipping  firm  to  which  he  had  the 
good-fortune  to  belong. 

Captain  Bruce  did  not  hesitate.  Jack  was  sent 
across  the  seas.  Eve,  Avho  was  then  ten  years  old, 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  15 

wept  desperately  over  the  parting.  Six  years  later 
she  too  went  to  England.  Her  father  had  died,  and, 
young  as  she  was,  her  determination  to  go  to  her 
brother  was  so  strong  that  nothing  could  stand 
against  it.  During  the  six  years  of  separation  Jack 
had  returned  to  America  twice  to  see  his  father  and 
sister;  the  tie  between  the  three  had  not  been  broken 
by  absence,  but  only  made  stronger.  The  girl  had 
lived  a  concentrated  life,  therefore  an  isolated  one. 
She  had  had  her  own  way  on  almost  all  occasions. 
It  was  said  of  her,  "Any  one  can  see  that  she  has 
been  brought  up  by  a  man  !"  In  reality  there  were 
two  men  ;  for  Jack  had  seemed  to  her  a  man  when 
he  was  only  twelve  years  old.  Her  father  gone,  her 
resolve  to  go  to  Jack  was,  as  has  been  said,  so  strong 
that  nothing  could  stand  against  it.  But  in  truth 
there  was  little  to  oppose  to  it,  and  few  to  oppose 
her  ;  no  one,  indeed,  who  could  set  up  anything  like 
the  force  of  will  which  she  was  exhibiting  on  tho 
other  side.  She  had  no  near  relatives  ;  as  for  her 
father's  old  friends,  she  rode  over  them. 

"You'll  have  to  let  her  go;  she  puts  out  her 
mouth  so  !"  said  Mrs.  Mason,  the  colonel's  wife,  at 
last.  The  remark,  as  to  its  form,  was  incoherent  ; 
but  everybody  at  the  post  understood  her.  At  six 
teen,  then,  Eve  Bruce  was  sent  to  England.  As  soon 
as  she  was  able  she  took  a  portion  of  the  property 
which  came  to  her  from  her  mother,  to  make  a  com 
fortable  home  for  Jack.  For  Jack  had  only  his  sal 
ary,  and  it  was  not  a  large  one.  He  had  made  him 
self  acceptable  in  the  house,  and  in  due  time  he  was 
to  have  a  small  share  of  the  profits  ;  but  the  due 
time  was  not  yet,  and  would  not  be  for  some  years. 
His  father's  old  friend,  who  had  been  his  friend  also, 


16  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

as  well  as  his  sponsor  in  the  firm,  had  died.  But  his 
widow,  who  liked  the  young  American — she  was  an 
American  herself,  though  long  expatriated  —  con 
tinued  to  extend  to  him  much  kindness  ;  and,  when 
his  sister  came  over,  she  included  her  in  the  invita 
tions.  Eve  did  not  care  much  for  these  opportuni 
ties,  nor  for  the  other  opportunities  that  followed  in 
their  train  ;  occasionally  she  went  to  a  dinner  ;  but 
she  found  her  best  pleasure  in  being  with  her  broth 
er  alone.  They  remained  in  London  all  the  year 
round,  save  for  six  weeks  in  August  and  September. 
Eve  could  have  paid  many  a  visit  in  the  country  dur 
ing  the  autumn  and  winter  ;  but  their  small,  ugly 
house  near  Hans  Place  was  more  beautiful  in  her 
eyes,  Jack  being  there,  than  the  most  picturesque 
cottage  with  a  lawn  and  rose  garden,  or  even  than 
an  ivy-grown  mansion  in  a  deer-haunted  park. 

Thus  brother  and  sister  lived  on  for  eight  years. 
Then  one  morning,  early  in  1864,  Jack,  who  had 
chafed  against  his  counting-house  chains  ever  since 
the  April  of  Sumter,  broke  them  short  off  ;  he  too 
had  a  determined  mouth.  "  I  can't  stand  it  any 
longer,  Eve  :  I  am  going  home.  Fortunately  you 
are  provided  for,  or  I  couldn't.  I  shall  lose  my 
place  here,  of  course  ;  but  I  don't  care.  Go  I  must." 
A  week  later  he  sailed  for  New  York.  And  he  was 
soon  in  the  army.  "  Blood  will  tell,"  said  his  fa 
ther's  regimental  companions — the  few  who  were 
left. 

Eve,  in  London,  now  began  to  lead  that  life  of 
watching  the  telegraphic  despatches  and  counting 
the  days  for  letters  which  was  the  lot  of  American 
women  during  those  dark  times  of  war.  She  re 
mained  in  London,  because  it  was  understood  be- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  17 

tween  thorn  that  Jack  was  to  return.  But  she  rent 
ed  their  house,  and  lived  in  lodgings  near  by,  so  as 
to  have  all  the  more  money  ready  for  him  when  he 
should  come  back. 

But  Jack  did  not  come  back.  When  the  war 
reached  its  end,  he  wrote  that  he  was  going  to  be 
married  ;  she  was  a  Southern  girl — he  was  even  par 
ticular  as  to  her  name  and  position  :  Cicely  Aber- 
crombie,  the  granddaughter  of  Judge  Abercrombie 
of  Abercrombie's  Island.  Eve  scarcely  read  these 
names  ;  she  had  stopped  at  "  marry." 

He  did  marry  Cicely  Abercrombie  in  October  of 
that  year,  1865. 

He  wrote  long  letters  to  his  sister  ;  he  wished  her 
to  come  out  and  join  them.  He  had  leased  two  of 
the  abandoned  cotton  plantations  —  great  things 
could  be  done  in  cotton  now — and  he  was  sure  that 
ho  should  make  his  fortune.  Eve,  overwhelmed 
with  her  disappointment  and  her  grief,  wrote  and 
rewrote  her  brief  replies  before  she  could  succeed  in 
filling  one  small  sheet  without  too  much  bitterness  ; 
for  Jack  was  still  Jack,  and  she  loved  him.  He  had 
never  comprehended  the  exclusiveness,  the  jealousy 
of  her  affection  ;  he  had  accepted  her  devotion  and 
enjoyed  it,  but  he  had  believed,  without  thinking 
much  about  it  at  any  time,  that  all  sisters  were  like 
that.  In  urging  her,  therefore,  to  join  them,  he  did 
not  in  the  least  suspect  that  the  chief  obstacle  lay  in 
that  very  word  "  them,"  of  which  he  was  so  proud. 
To  join  "  them,"  to  see  some  one  else  preferred  ; 
where  she  had  been  first,  to  take  humbly  a  second 
place  !  And  who  could  tell  whether  this  girl  was 
worthy  of  him?  Perhaps  the  bitterest  part  of  the 
suffering  would  be  to  see  Jack  himself  befooled,  be- 

O  * 

2 


18  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

littled.  The  sister,  wretchedly  unhappy,  allowed  it 
to  be  supposed,  without  saying  so — it  was  Jack  who 
suggested  it — that  she  would  come  later  ;  after  she 
had  disposed  of  the  lease  of  their  house,  and  sold 
their  furniture  to  advantage.  In  time  the  furniture 
was  sold,  but  not  to  advantage.  The  money  which 
she  had  taken  from  her  capital  to  make  a  comforta 
ble  home  for  her  brother  was  virtually  lost. 

Presently  it  was  only  a  third  place  that  could  be 
offered  to  her,  for,  during  the  next  winter,  Jack  wrote 
jo}7fully  to  announce  the  birth  of  a  son.  He  had 
not  made  his  fortune  yet  ;  but  he  was  sure  to  do  so 
the  next  year.  The  next  year  he  died. 

Then  Eve  wrote,  for  the  first  time,  to  Cicely. 

In  reply  she  received  a  long  letter  from  Cicely's 
aunt,  Sabrina  Abercrombie,  giving,  with  real  grief, 
the  particulars  of  Jack's  last  hours.  He  had  died 
of  the  horrible  yellow-fever.  Eve  was  ill  when  the 
letter  reached  her;  her  illness  lasted  many  months, 
and  kind-hearted  Mrs.  Ashley  took  her,  almost  by 
force,  to  her  place  in  the  country,  beautiful  Hayling 
Hall,  in  Warwickshire.  When  at  last  she  was  able 
to  hold  a  pen,  Eve  wrote  again  to  Cicely  ;  only  a 
few  lines  (her  first  epistle  had  not  been  much  longer); 
still,  a  letter.  The  reply  was  again  from  Miss  Aber 
crombie,  and,  compared  with  her  first  communication, 
it  was  short  and  vague.  The  only  definite  sentences 
were  about  the  child;  "for  he  is  the  one  in  whom 
you  are  most  interested,  naturally"  she  wrote,  under 
scoring  the  "he"  and  the  "naturally"  with  a  pale 
line;  the  whole  letter,  as  regards  ink,  was  very  pale. 

And  now  Eve  Bruce  had  this  child.  And  she  de 
termined,  with  all  the  intensity  of  her  strong  will, 
of  her  burning,  jealous  sorrow,  that  he  should  be  hers 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  19 

nlone.     With  such  a  mother   as  Cicely  there  was 
everything  to  hope. 


III. 

WHILE  the  meal,  which  Cicely  had  announced  as 
supper,  was  going  on  in  the  dining-room,  Meadows 
was  occupying  herself  in  her  accustomed  evening  ef 
fort  to  bring  her  mistress's  abiding-place  for  the 
night,  wherever  it  might  happen  to  be,  into  as  close 
a  resemblance  to  an  English  bedroom  as  was,  under 
the  circumstances,  possible.  The  resemblance  had 
not  been  striking,  so  far,  with  all  her  toil,  there  hav 
ing  been  something  fundamentally  un-English  both 
in  the  cabins  of  the  Ville  de  Havre  and  in  the  glit 
tering  salons  which  served  as  bedrooms  in  the  Hotel 
of  the  Universe  in  New  York.  The  Savannah  boat 
had  been  no  better,  nor  the  shelf  with  a  roof  over  it 
of  the  little  Altamaha;  on  the  steamer  of  the  Inland 
Route  her  struggle  had  been  with  an  apartment 
seven  feet  long ;  here  at  Romney  it  was  with  one 
which  had  six  times  that  amount  of  perspective. 

A  fire,  freshly  lighted,  flared  on  the  hearth,  the 
spicy  odor  of  its  lightwood  still  filling  the  air.  And 
there  was  air  enough  to  fill,  for  not  one  of  the  doors 
nor  of  the  row  of  white  windows  which  opened  to 
the  floor  fitted  tightly  in  its  casing;  there  were  wide 
cracks  everywhere,  and  Meadows  furthermore  dis 
covered,  to  her  horror,  that  the  windows  had  sashes 
which  came  only  part  of  the  way  down,  the  lower 
half  being  closed  by  wooden  shutters  only.  She 
barred  these  apertures  as  well  as  she  could  (some 
of  the  bars  were  gone),  and  then  tried  to  draw  the 


20  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

curtains  ;  but  these  muslin  protections,  when  they 
reached  the  strong  current  of  air  which  came  through 
the  central  crack  of  the  s nutters,  were  blown  out  tow 
ards  the  middle  of  the  room  like  so  many  long  white 
ghosts.  Meadows  surveyed  them  with  a  sigh ;  with 
a  sigh  she  arranged  the  contents  of  Miss  Bruce's 

o  o 

dressing-bag  on  the  outlandish  bare  toilet-table;  she 
placed  the  slippers  by  the  fire  and  drew  forward  the 
easiest  chair.  But  when  all  was  done  the  room  still 
remained  uncomfortably  large,  and  uncomfortably 
empty.  Outside,  the  wind  whistled,  the  near  sea  gave 
out  a  booming  sound;  within,  the  flame  of  the  candle 
flared  now  here,  now  there,  in  the  counter-draughts 
that  swept  the  room. 

"It  certainly  is  the  farawayest  place!"  murmured 
the  English  girl. 

There  came  a  sound  at  the  door  ;  not  a  knock, 
but  a  rub  across  the  panels.  This  too  was  alarming. 
Meadows  kept  the  door  well  bolted,  and  called  fear 
fully,  "  Who's  there?" 

"It's  ony  me — Powlyrie,"  answered  a  shrill  voice. 
"  I's  come  wid  de  wines;  Miss  S'breeny,  she  sont  me." 

The  tones  were  unmistakably  feminine;  Meadows 
drew  back  the  bolt  and  peeped  out.  A  negro  girl 
of  twelve  stood  there,  bearing  a  tray  which  held  a 
decanter  and  wineglass  ;  her  wool  was  braided  in 
little  tails,  which  stood  out  like  short  quills;  her  one 
garment  was  a  calico  dress,  whose  abbreviated  skirt 
left  her  bare  legs  visible  from  the  knees  down 
ward. 

"Do  you  want  to  come  in?"  said  Meadows.  "I 
can  take  it."  And  she  stretched  out  her  hand  for 
the  tray. 

"  Miss  S'breeny  she  done  tole  me  to  put  'em  my- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  21 

sc'f  on  de  little  table  close  ter  der  bed,"  answered 
Powlyne,  craning  her  neck  to  look  into  the  room. 

Meadows  opened  the  door  a  little  wider,  and  Pow 
lyne  performed  her  office.  Seeing  that  she  was  very 
small  and  slight,  the  English  girl  recovered  courage. 

"  I  suppose  you  live  here  ?"  she  suggested. 

"  Yass,  'in." 

"  And  when  there  isn't  any  one  else  'andy,  they 
send  you?" 

"  Dey  sonds  me  when  dey  wanster,  I's  Miss 
S'breeny's  maid,"  answered  Powlyne,  digging  her 
bare  heel  into  the  matting. 

"Her  maid  ? — for  gracious  sake!  What  can  you 
do?" 

"  Tuckenoffener  shoes.     En  stockin's." 

"  Tuckenoffener  ?" 

"  Haul  'em  off.     Yass,  'rn." 

"  Well,  if  I  hever  !"  murmured  Meadows,  survey 
ing  this  strange  coadjutor,  from  the  erect  tails  of 
wool  to  the  bare  black  toes. 

There  was  a  loud  groan  in  the  hall  outside.  Mea 
dows  started. 

"  Unc'  Abram,  I  spec,  totin'  up  de  wood,"  said 
Powlyne. 

"  Is  ho  ill  ?" 

"  111  !"  said  the  child,  contemptuously.  "  He's  dat 
dair  sassy  ter-night !" 

"  Is  he  coming  in  here  ?  Oh,  don't  go  away  !" 
pleaded  Meadows.  She  had  a  vision  of  another  in 
cursion  of  black  men  in  bathing  costumes. 

But  Uncle  Abram  was  alone,  and  he  was  very  po 
lite  ;  he  bowed  even  before  he  put  the  wood  down, 
and  several  times  afterwards.  u  Dey's  cookin'  sup- 
pah  fer  yer,  miss,"  he  announced,  hospitably.  "  Dey'll 


22  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

be  fried  chickens  en  fixin's ;  en  hot  biscuits ;  en 
jell;  en  coffee." 

"I  should  rather  have  tea,  if  it  is  equally  conven 
ient,"  said  Meadows,  after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

" Dere,  now,  doan  yer  like  coffee?"  inquired  Un 
cle  Abram,  looking  at  her  admiringly.  For  it  was 
such  an  extraordinary  dislike  that  only  very  distin 
guished  people  could  afford  to  have  it.  "  Fer  my 
part,"  he  went  on,  gazing  meditatively  at  the  fire 
which  he  had  just  replenished,  "  I  'ain't  nebber  had 
'nuff  in  all  my  borned  days — no,  not  et  one  time. 
Pints  wouldn't  do  me.  Ner  yet  korts.  I  'ain't  neb 
ber  had  a  gallion." 

Voices  were  now  heard  in  the  hall.  Cicely  en 
tered,  followed  by  Eve  Bruce. 

"All  the  darkies  on  the  island  will  be  coming  to 
look  at  her  to-morrow,"  said  Cicely,  after  Meadows 
had  gone  to  her  supper;  "they'll  be  immensely 
stirred  up  about  her.  She's  still  afraid — did  you 
pee  ? — she  kept  as  far  away  as  she  could  from  poor 
old  Uncle  Abram  as  she  went  down  the  hall.  The 
field  hands  will  be  too  much  for  her  ;  some  of  the 
little  nigs  have  no  clothes  at  all." 

"  She  won't  see  them  ;  she  goes  to-morrow." 

*  O 

"  That's  as  you  please  ;  if  I  were  you,  I  would 
keep  her.  They  will  bring  a  mattress  in  here  for 
her  presently;  perhaps  she  has  never  slept  on  the 
floor?" 

"  I  dare  say  not.     But  she  can  for  once." 

Cicely  went  to  one  of  the  windows  ;  she  opened 
the  upper  half  of  the  shutter  and  looked  out.  "  How 
the  wind  blows !  Jupiter  Light  shines  right  into 
your  room." 

"Yes,  I  can  see  it  from  here,"  said  Eve.     "It's  a 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  23 

good  companion — always  awake."  She  was  speak 
ing  conventionally;  she  had  spoken  conventionally 
through  the  long  supper,  and  the  effort  had  tired  her  : 
she  was  not  in  the  least  accustomed  to  concealing 
her  thoughts. 

"Always  awake.  Are  you  always  awake?"  said 
Cicely,  returning  to  the  fire. 

"I?     What  an  idea!" 

"I  don't  know;  you  look  like  it." 

"I  must  look  very  tired,  then?" 

"You  do." 

"  Fortunately  you  do  not,"  answered  Eve,  coldly. 
For  there  was  something  singularly  fresh  about 
Cicely;  though  she  had  no  color,  she  always  looked 
fair  and  perfectly  rested,  as  though  she  had  just 
risen  from  a  refreshing  sleep.  "  I  suppose  you  have 
never  felt  tired,  really  tired,  in  all  your  life?"  Eve 
went  on. 

"  N — no;  I  don't  know  that  I  have  ever  felt  tired, 
exactly,"  Cicely  answered,  emphasizing  slightly  the 
word  "  tired." 

"  You  have  always  had  so  many  servants  to  do 
everything  for  you,"  Eve  responded,  explaining  her 
self  a  little. 

"We  haven't  many  now;  only  four.  And  they 
help  in  the  fields  whenever  they  can — all  except  Dil- 
sey,  who  stays  with  Jack." 

Again  the  name.  Eve  felt  that  she  must  over 
come  her  dread  of  it.  "  Jack  is  very  like  his  father," 
she  said,  loudly  and  decidedly. 

"Yes,"  answered  Cicely.  Then,  after  a  pause, 
"Your  brother  was  much  older  than  I." 

"  Oh,  Jack  was  young  /" 

"  I  don't  mean  that  he  was  really  old,  he  hadn't 


24  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

gray  hair.  But  he  was  thirty-one  when  we  were 
married,  and  I  was  sixteen." 

"  I  suppose  no  one  forced  you  to  marry  him  ?"  said 
the  sister,  the  flash  returning  to  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  yes." 

"Nonsense!" 

"I  mean  he  did  —  Jack  himself  did.  I  thought 
that  perhaps  you  would  feel  so." 

"Feel  how?" 

"  Why,  that  we  made  him — that  we  tried,  or  that 
I  tried.  And  so  I  have  brought  some  of  his  letters 
to  show  you."  She  took  a  package  from  her  pocket 
and  laid  it  on  the  mantelpiece.  "You  needn't  re 
turn  them;  you  can  burn  them  after  reading." 

"  Oh,  probably,"  answered  Eve,  incoherently.  She 
felt  choked  with  her  anger  and  grief. 

There  was  a  murmuring  sound  in  the  hall,  and 
Miss  Sabrina,  pushing  the  door  open  with  her  foot, 
entered  apologetically,  carrying  a  jar  of  dark-blue 
porcelain,  ornamented  with  vague  white  dragons 
swallowing  their  tails.  The  jar  was  large  ;  it  ex 
tended  from  her  knees  to  her  chin,  which  rested 
upon  its  edge  with  a  singular  effect.  "  My  dear," 
she  said,  "I've  brought  you  some  po-purry;  your 
room  hasn't  been  slept  in  for  some  time,  though  I 
hope  it  isn't  musty." 

The  jar  had  no  handles;  she  had  difficulty  in 
placing  it  upon  the  high  chest  of  drawers.  Eve 
went  to  her  assistance.  And  then  Miss  Sabrina  per 
ceived  that  their  guest  was  crying.  Eve  changed 
the  jar's  position  two  or  three  times.  Miss  Sabrina 
said,  each  time,  "Yes,  yes  ;  it  is  much  better  so." 
And,  furtively,  she  pressed  Eve's  hand. 

Jack  Bruce's  wife,  meanwhile — forgotten  Jack — 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  25 

stood  by  the  hearth,  gazing  at  the  fire.  She  was  a 
little  creature,  slight  and  erect,  with  a  small  head, 
small  ears,  small  hands  and  feet.  Yet  somehow  she 
did  not  strike  one  as  short;  one  thought  of  her  a? 
having  the  full  height  of  her  kind,  and  even  as  be' 
ing  tall  for  so  small  a  person.  This  effect  was  due, 
no  doubt,  to  her  slender  litheness  ;  she  was  light 
and  cool  as  the  wind  at  dawn,  untrammelled  by  too 
much  womanhood.  Her  features  were  delicate  ;  the 
oval  of  her  face  was  perfect,  her  complexion  a  clear 
white  without  color.  Her  lustreless  black  hair,  very 
fine  and  soft,  was  closely  braided,  the  plaits  arranged 
at  the  back  of  the  head  as  flatly  as  possible,  like  a 
tightly  fitting  cap.  Her  great  dark  eyes  with  long 
curling  lashes  were  very  beautiful.  They  had  often 
an  absent-minded  look.  Under  them  were  bluish 
rings.  Slight  and  smooth  as  she  was — the  flesh  of 
her  whole  body  was  extraordinarily  smooth,  as 
though  it  had  been  rubbed  with  pumice-stone — she 
yet  seemed  in  one  way  strong  and  unyielding.  She 
was  quiet  in  her  looks,  in  her  actions,  in  her  tones. 

Eve  had  now  choked  down  her  tears. 

"I  sent  Powlyne  with  some  cherry -bounce,"  said 
Miss  Sabrina,  giving  Eve's  hand,  secretly,  a  last 
pressure,  as  they  came  back  to  the  hearth.  "  Your 
maid  will  find  it — such  a  nice,  worthy  person  as  she 
seems  to  be,  too  ;  so  generally  desirable  all  round.  If 
she  is  really  to  leave  you  to-morrow,  you  must  have 
some  one  else.  Let  me  see — " 

"  I  don't  want  any  one,  thanks,"  Eve  answered. 
Two  spots  of  color  rose  in  her  cheeks.  "  That  is,  I 
don't  want  any  one  unless  I  can  have  Jack  V"  She 
turned  to  Cicely,  who  still  stood  gazing  at  the  lire. 
"May  Jack  sleep  here?" 


26  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  With  Dilsey  ?"  said  Cicel}7,  lifting  her  eyes  with 
a  surprised  glance. 

"  Yes,  with  Dilse}r.     The  room  is  large." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  care;  yes,  if  you  like!  He  cries 
at  night  sometimes." 

"  I  hope  he  will,"  responded  Eve,  and  her  tone  was 
almost  fierce.  "Then  I  can  comfort  him." 

"Dilsey  does  that  better  than  any  one  else;  he  is 
devoted  to  her ;  when  he  cries,  I  never  interfere," 
said  Cicely,  laughing. 

Eve  bit  her  lips  to  keep  back  the  retort,  "  But  / 
shall !" 

"  It  is  a  sweet  idea,"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  in  her 
chanting  voice.  "  It  is  sweet  of  Miss  Bruce  to  Avish 
to  have  him,  and  sweet  of  you,  Cicely,  to  let  him  go. 
We  can  arrange  a  little  nursery  at  the  other  end 
of  this  room  to-morrow  ;  there's  a  chamber  beyond, 
where  no  one  sleeps,  and  the  door  could  be  opened 
through,  if  you  like.  I  am  sure  it  will  be  very  nice 
all  round." 

Eve  turned  and  kissed  her.  Cicely  pushed  back 
a  burning  log  with  her  foot,  and  laughed  again,  this 
time  merrily.  "  It  seems  so  funny,  your  having  the 
baby  in  here  at  night,  just  like  a  mother,  when  you 
haven't  been  married  at  all.  Now  I  have  been  mar 
ried  twice.  To  be  sure,  I  never  meant  to  be  !" 

"My  precious  child  !"  Miss  Sabrina  remonstrated. 

"  No,  auntie,  I  never  did.  It  came  about,"  Cicely 
answered,  her  eyes  growing  absent  again  and  return 
ing  to  the  fire. 

Meadows  now  came  in  with  deferential  step,  and 
presently  she  was  followed  by  her  own  couch,  which 
Uncle  Abram  spread  out,  in  the  shape  of  a  mattress, 
on  the  floor.  The  English  girl  looked  on,  amazed. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  27 

But  this  was  a  house  of  amazements;  it  was  like  a 
Drury  Lane  pantomime. 

Later,  when  the  girl  was  asleep,  Eve  rose,  and,  tak 
ing  the  package  of  letters,  which  she  had  put  under 
her  pillow,  she  felt  for  a  candle  and  matches,  thrust 
her  feet  into  her  slippers,  and,  with  her  dressing- 
gown  over  her  arm,  stole  to  the  second  door  ;  it 
opened  probably  into  the  unoccupied  chamber  of 
which  Miss  Sabrina  had  spoken.  The  door  was  not 
locked;  she  passed  through,  closing  it  behind  her. 
Lighting  her  candle,  she  looked  about  her.  The 
room  was  empty,  the  floor  bare.  She  put  her  candle 
on  the  floor,  and,  kneeling  down  beside  it,  opened 
the  letters.  There  were  but  four;  apparently  Cicely 
had  thought  that  four  would  be  enough  to  confirm 
what  she  had  said.  They  were  enough.  More  pas 
sionate,  more  determined  letters  man  never  wrote  to 
woman;  they  did  not  plead  so  much  as  insist;  they 
compelled  by  sheer  force  of  persistent  unconquer 
able  love,  which  accepts  anything,  bears  anything, 
to  gain  even  tolerance. 

And  this  was  Jack,  her  brother  Jack,  who  had  thus 
prostrated  himself  at  the  feet  of  that  indifferent  lit 
tle  creature,  that  cold,  small,  dark  girl  who  already 
bore  another  name  !  She  was  angry  with  him.  Then 
the  anger  faded  away  into  infinite  pity.  "  Oh,  Jack, 
dear  old  Jack,  to  have  loved  her  so,  she  caring  noth 
ing  for  you  !  And  I  am  to  burn  your  poor  letters 
that  you  thought  so  much  about — your  poor,  poor 
letters."  Sinking  down  upon  tlxe  floor,  she  placed 
the  open  pages  upon  her  knees,  laying  her  cheek  upon 
them  as  though  they  had  been  something  human. 
"Some  one  cares  for  you,"  she  murmured. 

There  was  now  a  wild  gale  outside.     One  of  the 


28  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

shutters  was  open,  and  she  could  see  Jupiter  Light ; 
she  sat  there,  with  her  cheek  on  the  letters,  looking 
at  it. 

Suddenly  everything  seemed  changed,  she  no 
longer  wept ;  she  felt  sluggish,  cold.  "  Don't  I  care 
any  more '?"  she  thought,  surprised.  She  rose  and 
went  back  to  her  bed,  glad  to  creep  into  its  warmth, 
and  leaving  the  letters  on  a  chair  by  her  bedside. 
Then,  duly,  she  put  them  under  her  pillow  again. 


IV. 

ON  Christmas  Day,  Eve  was  out  with  little  Jack 
and  Dilsey.  Dilsey  was  a  negro  woman  of  sixty, 
small  and  thin,  with  a  wise,  experienced  face ;  she 
increased  her  dignity  as  much  as  she  could  by  a  high 
stiff  white  turban,  but  the  rest  of  her  attire  Mras  poor 
and  old,  though  she  was  not  bare-legged  like  Pow- 
lyne ;  she  wore  stockings  and  shoes.  Little  Jack's 
wagon  was  a  rude  cart  with  solid  wooden  wheels ; 
but  the  hoops  of  its  hood  had  been  twined  with  holly 
by  the  negroes,  so  that  the  child's  face  was  enshrined 
in  a  bower  of  green. 

"  We  will  go  to  the  sea,"  said  Eve.  "  Unless  it 
is  too  far  for  you  and  the  wagon  ?" 

"No,  'm  ;  push  'em  easy  'nuff." 

The  narrow  road,  passing  between  unbroken  thick 
ets  of  glittering  evergreen  bushes,  breast-high,  went 
straight  towards  the  east,  like  an  unroofed  tunnel ; 
in  twenty  minutes  it  brought  them  to  the  shore.  The 
beach,  broad,  firm,  and  silver  white,  stretched  tow 
ards  the  north  and  the  south,  dotted  here  and  there 
with  drift-wood;  a  breeze  from  the  water  touched 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  29 

their  cheeks  coolly  ;  the  ocean  was  calm,  little  foam- 
crested  wavelets  coming  gurgling  up  to  curl  over 
and  flatten  themselves  out  on  the  wet  sand.  "Do 
you  see  it,  Jack?"  said  Eve,  kneeling  down  by  the 
wagon.  "  It's  the  sea,  the  great  big  sea." 

But  Jack  preferred  to  blow  his  whistle,  and  that 
done,  he  proceeded  to  examine  it  carefully,  putting 
his  little  fat  forefinger  into  all  the  holes.  Eve  sat 
down  on  the  sand  beside  him ;  if  he  scorned  the  sea, 
for  the  moment  she  did  too. 

"  I's  des  sauntered  ober,  Dilsey  ;  dey  'ain't  no  hur 
ry  'bout  comin'  back,"  said  a  voice.  "  En  I  'low'd 
miss  might  be  tired,  so  I  fetched  a  cheer."  It  was 
old  Temp'rance,  the  cook. 

"Did  you  bring  that  chair  all  the  way  for  me?" 
asked  Eve,  surprised. 

"  Yass,  'm.  It's  sut'ny  pleasant  here;  it  sut'ny 
is." 

"  I  am  much  obliged ;  but  I  shall  be  going  back 
soon." 

The  two  old  women  looked  at  each  other.  "Dat 
dere  ole  wrack  down  der  beach  is  moughty  cu'us — 
ef  yer  like  ter  walk  dat  way  en  see  'em  ?"  suggested 
Dilsey,  after  a  pause. 

"  Too  far,"  said  Eve. 

Both  of  the  old  women  declared  that  it  was  very 
near.  The  wind  freshened  ;  Eve,  who  had  little 
Jack  in  her  arms,  feared  lest  he  might  take  cold, 
thinly  clad  as  he  was — far  too  thinly  for  her  North 
ern  ideas — with  only  one  fold  of  linen  and  his  little 
white  frock  over  his  breast.  She  drew  the  skirt  of 
her  dress  over  his  bare  knees.  Then  after  a  while 
she  rose  and  put  him  in  his  wagon.  "  We  will  go 
back,"  she  said. 


30  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Again  the  two  old  women  looked  at  each  other 
But  they  were  afraid  of  the  Northern  lady;  the  mu 
nificent  presents  which  she  had  given  them  that 
morning  did  not  bring  them  any  nearer  to  her.  Old 
Temp'rance,  therefore,  shouldered  her  chair  again, 
Dilsey  turned  the  wagon,  and  they  entered  the  bush- 
bordered  tunnel  on  their  way  home,  walking  as  slow 
ly  as  they  could.  In  only  one  place  was  there  an 
opening  through  the  serried  green;  here  a  track 
turned  off  to  the  right.  When  Eve  had  passed  its 
entrance  the  first  time,  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen 
but  another  perspective  of  white  sand  and  glittering 
foliage  ;  but  on  their  return  her  eyes,  happening  to 
glance  that  way,  perceived  a  group  of  figures  at  the 
end.  "Who  are  those  people? — what  are  they  do 
ing?"  she  said,  pausing. 

"  Oh,  nutt'n,"  answered  Temp'rance.  "  Des  loung- 
jun  roun'." 

As  Eve  still  stood  looking,  Uncle  Abram  emerged 
from  the  bushes.  "  Shall  I  kyar  your  palasol  fer  yer, 
miss?"  he  asked,  officiously.  '"Pears  like  yer  mus* 
be  tired  ;  been  so  fur." 

Eve  now  comprehended  that  the  three  were  try 
ing  to  keep  something  from  her.  "  What  has  hap 
pened  ?"  she  said.  "  Tell  me  immediately." 

"Dey  'ain'  nutt'n  happen,"  answered  Uncle  Abram, 
desperately  ;  "  dey's  too  brash,  dem  two  !  Miss 
S'breeny  she  'low'd  dat  yer  moutn't  like  ter  see  her 
go  a  moanin',  miss ;  en  so  she  tole  us  not  ter  let  yer 
come  dishy er  way  ef  we  could  he'p  it.  But  dem  two 
— dey's  boun'  ter  do  some  fool  ting.  It's  a  cohesion 
of  malice  'mong  women — 'tis  dat !" 

"Does  that  road  lead  to  the  cemetery,  too?"  said 
Eve.  "  I  went  by  another  way.  Take  baby  home, 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  31 

Dilsey" — she  stooped  and  kissed  him;  "I  will  join 
Miss  Abercrombie."  She  walked  rapidly  down  the 
side  track ;  the  three  blacks  stood  watching  her,  old 
Temp'rance  with  the  chair  poised  on  her  turban. 

The  little  burying-ground  was  surrounded  by  an 
old  brick  wall  ;  its  high  gate-posts  were  square,  each 
surmounted  by  a  clumsy  funeral  urn.  The  rusty 
iron  gate  was  open,  and  a  procession  was  passing  in. 
First  came  Miss  Sabrina  in  her  bonnet,  an  ancient 
structure  of  large  size,  trimmed  with  a  black  ribbon ; 
the  gentle  lady,  when  out-of-doors,  was  generally 
seen  in  what  she  called  her  "flat;"  the  presence  of 
the  bonnet,  therefore,  marked  a  solemn  occasion. 
She  likewise  wore  a  long  scarf,  which  was  pinned, 
with  two  pins,  low  down  on  her  sloping  shoulders, 
its  brocbe  ends  falling  over  her  gown  in  front ;  her 
hands  were  encased  in  black  kid  gloves  much  too 
large  for  her,  the  kid  wrists  open  and  flapping.  Be 
hind  her  came  Powlyne,  Pomp,  and  Plato,  carrying 
wreaths  of  holly.  Eve  drew  near  noiselessly,  and 
paused  outside.  Miss  Sabrina  first  knelt  down,  bow 
ing  her  head  upon  her  hands  for  a  moment;  then, 
rising,  she  took  the  wreaths  one  by  one,  and  arranged 
them  upon  the  graves,  the  three  blacks  following  her. 
When  she  had  taken  the  last,  she  signed  to  them  to 
withdraw  ;  they  went  out  quietly,  each  turning  at 
the  gate  to  make  a  reverential  bow,  partly  to  her, 
partly  to  the  circle  of  the  dead.  Eve  now  entered 
the  enclosure,  and  Miss  Sabrina  saw  her. 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  I  didn't  intend  that  you  should 
come;"  she  said,  distressed. 

"And  why  not?  I  have  been  here  before;  and 
my  brother  is  here." 

"Yes;  bul  to-day — to-day  is  different." 


32  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Eve  looked  at  the  graves;  she  perceived  that  three 
of  them  were  decked  with  small  Confederate  flags. 

"  Our  dear  cousins,"  said  Miss  Sabrina  ;  "  they 
died  for  their  country,  and  on  Memorial  Day,  Christ 
mas  Day,  and  Easter  I  like  to  pay  them  such  small 
honor  as  I  can.  I  am  in  the  habit  of  singing  a  hymn 
before  I  go;  don't  stay,  my  dear,  if  it  jars  upon  you." 

"  It  doesn't,"  said  Eve.  She  had  seated  hei'self 
on  the  grass  beside  her  brother's  grave,  with  her  arm 
laid  over  it. 

Miss  Sabrina  turned  her  back  and  put  on  her  glass 
es.  Then,  resuming  her  original  position,  she  took 
a  small  prayer-book  from  her  pocket,  opened  it,  and, 
after  an  apologetic  cough,  began: 

"Rise,  my  soul,  and  stretch  thy  wings, 
Thy  better  portion  trace." 

Eve,  sitting  there,  looked  at  her.  Miss  Sabrina  was 
tall  and  slender;  she  had  once  been  pretty,  but  now 
her  cheeks  were  wan,  her  eyes  faded,  her  soft  brown 
hair  was  very  thin.  She  had  but  a  thread  of  a  voice. 

"There  is  everlasting  peace, 
Rest,  enduring  rest,  in  heaven," 

she  sang  in  her  faint,  sweet  tones  ;  and  when  she 
came  to  the  words,  "  There  will  sorrows  ever  cease," 
she  raised  her  poor  dim  eyes  towards  the  sky  with 
such  a  beautiful  expression  of  hope  in  them  that  the 
younger  woman  began  to  realize  that  there  might  be 
acute  griefs  even  when  people  were  so  mild  and  ac 
quiescent,  so  dimly  hued  and  submissive,  as  was  this 
meek  Southern  gentlewoman. 

The  hymn  finished,  Miss  Sabrina  put  her  prayer- 
book  in  her  pocket,  and  came  forward.  "  My  moth 
er,"  she  said,  touching  one  of  the  tombs.  "  My  grand- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  33 

father  and  grandmother.  My  brother  Marmaduke, 
Cicely's  father.  Cicely's  mother  ;  she  was  a  North 
erner,  and  we  have  sometimes  thought  Cicely  rather 
Northern." 

"Oh,  no!" 

"  Well,  her  grandmother  was  from  Guadeloupe. 
So  perhaps  that  balances  it." 

The  older  tombs  were  built  of  brick,  each  one  cov 
ered  with  a  heavy  marble  slab,  upon  which  were  in 
scribed,  in  stately  old-fashioned  language,  and  with 
old-fashioned  arrangement  of  lines  and  capitals,  the 
names,  the  virtues,  and  the  talents  of  the  one  who  lay 
beneath.  The  later  graves  were  simple  grassy  mounds. 

"My  brother  Augustus;  my  great-uncle  William 
Drayton  ;  my  aunt  Pamela,"  Miss  Sabrina  contin 
ued,  indicating  each  tomb  as  she  named  its  occupant, 
much  as  though  she  were  introducing  them.  "My 
own  place  is  already  selected;  it  is  here,"  she  went 
on,  tapping  a  spot  with  her  slender  foot.  "  It  seems 
to  me  a  good  place;  don't  you  think  so  ?  And  I  keep 
an  envelope,  with  directions  for  everything,  on  top 
of  my  collars,  where  any  one  can  find  it ;  for  I  do 
so  dislike  an  ill-arranged  funeral.  For  instance,  I 
particularly  desire  that  there  should  be  fresh  water 
and  glasses  on  the  hall-table,  where  every  one  can 
get  them  without  asking  ;  so  much  better  than  hid 
den  in  some  back  room,  Avith  every  one  whispering 
and  hunting  about  after  them.  I  trust  you  don't 
mind  my  saying,"  she  concluded,  looking  at  Eve 
kindly,  "that  I  hope  you  may  be  here." 

They  left  the  cemetery  together. 

"  I  suppose  it  was  a  shock  to  you  that  your  niece 
should  marry  a  Union  officer?"  Eve  said,  as  they 
took  the  shorter  path  towards  the  house. 
3 


34  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  Ye-es,  I  cannot  deny  it;  and  to  my  father  also. 
But  we  liked  John  for  himself  very  much;  and  Cice 
ly  felt—" 

But  John's  sister  did  not  care  to  hear  what  Cicely 
felt!  "And  was  it  on  this  island  that  he  expected  to 
make  his  fortune — in  cotton  ?" 

"No;  these  are  rice  lands,  and  they  are  worthless 
now  that  the  dikes  are  down." 

"  And  the  slaves  gone." 

"Yes.  But  we  never  had  many  slaves;  we  were 
never  rich.  Now  we  are  very  poor,  my  dear;  I  don't 
know  that  any  one  has  mentioned  it  to  you." 

"  And  yet  you  keep  on  all  these  infirm  old  negroes 
— those  who  would  be  unable  to  get  employment 
anywhere  else." 

"  Oh,  we  should  never  turn  away  our  old  servants," 
replied  Miss  Sabrina,  with  confidence. 

That  evening,  at  the  judge's  suggestion,  Cicely 
took  her  guitar.  "  What  do  you  want  me  to  sing, 
grandpa  ?" 

"  '  Sweet  Afton.'  " 

So  Cicely  sang  it.  Then  the  judge  himself  sang, 
to  Cicely's  accompaniment,  "  They  may  rail  at  this 
life."  He  had  made  a  modest  bowl  of  punch:  it  was 
Christmas  night,  and  every  one  should  be  merry. 
So  he  sang,  in  his  gallant  old  voice  : 

"  '  They  may  rail  at  this  life;  from  the  hour  I  began  it 

I've  found  it  a  life  full  of  kindness  and  bliss; 
And  until  they  can  show  me  some  happier  planet, 
More  social,  more  gay,  I'll  content  me  with  this.'  " 

He  was  contented  with  it — this  life  "  full  of  kind 
ness  and  bliss,"  on  his  lonely  sea-island,  with  its  bro 
ken  dikes  and  desolated  fields,  in  his  half-ruined  old 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  35 

house,  with  its  wooden  walls  vibrating,  with  more 
than  one  pane  of  glass  gone,  more  than  one  floor 
whose  planks  were  loosened  so  that  they  must  walk 
carefully.  At  any  rate,  he  trolled  out  his  song  as 
though  he  were:  it  was  Christmas  night,  and  every 
one  should  be  merry. 

There  was  one  person  who  really  was  merry,  and 
that  was  Master  Jack,  who  sat  on  the  lap  of  his 
Northern  aunt,  laughing  and  crowing,  and  demand 
ing  recognition  of  his  important  presence  from  each 
in  turn,  by  the  despotic  power  of  his  eye.  In  truth, 
it  was  this  little  child  who  held  together  the  some 
what  strangely  assorted  group,  Miss  Sabrina  in  an 
ancient  white  lace  cape,  with  flowers  in  her  hair;  the 
old  judge  in  a  dress-coat  and  ruffled  shirt,  Cicely 
in  a  gay  little  gown  of  light-blue  tint  (taken  prob 
ably,  so  Eve  thought,  from  her  second  trousseau), 
and  Eve  herself  in  her  heavy  black  crape;  she  alone 
had  made  no  concessions  to  Christmas;  her  mourn 
ing  attire  was  unlightened  by  any  color,  or  even  by 
white. 

"  'Macgregor's  Gathering,'  "  called  the  judge. 

Cicely  sang  it.  After  finishing  the  song,  she  be 
gan  the  lament  a  second  time,  changing  the  words: 

"We're  niggerless,  niggerless,  niggerless,  Gregorlach! 
Niggerless,  niggerless,  nig-ig-ig-gerless!" 

she  sang.  "For  we're  not  ' landless  '  at  all;  we've 
got  miles  and  miles  of  land.  It's  niggers  that  are 
lacking." 

The  judge  laughed,  patting  her  little  dark  head 
as  she  sat  on  a  stool  beside  him.  "  Let  us  go  out  to 
the  quarters,  grandpa;  they  will  be  dancing  by  now. 
And  Jack  must  go  too." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

The  judge  lifted  his  great-grandson  to  his  shoul 
der.  Eve  had  already  noticed  that  Cicely  never  took 
the  child  from  her  with  her  own  hands;  she  let  some 
one  else  do  it.  When  the  door  was  opened,  distant 
sounds  of  the  thrumming  of  banjoes  could  be  heard. 
Seeing  a  possible  intention  on  Eve's  face,  Cicely  re 
marked,  in  her  impersonal  way,  "  Are  you  com 
ing  ?  They  won't  enjoy  it,  they  are  afraid  of 
you." 

"  I  don't  see  why  they  should  be,"  said  Eve,  when 
she  and  Miss  Sabrina  were  left  alone. 

"You  are  a  stranger,  my  dear;  it  is  only  that. 
And  they  are  all  so  fond  of  Cicely  that  it  wouldn't 
be  Christmas  to  them  if  she  did  not  pay  them  a 
visit  ;  they  worship  her." 

"  And  after  she  has  sung  that  song  !" 

"  That  song  ?" 

"  '  Niggerless,'  "  quoted  Eve,  indignantly. 

"  Well,  we  are  niggerless,  or  nearly  so,"  said  Miss 
Sabrina,  mystified. 

"  It's  the  word,  the  term." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  nigger?  It  is  very  natural  to  us 
to  say  so.  I  suppose  you  prefer  negroes?  If  you 
like,  I  will  try  to  call  them  so  hereafter.  Negroes; 
yes,  negroes."  She  pronounced  it  "nig-rocs."  "  I 
don't  know  whether  I  have  told  you,"  she  went  on, 
"how  much  Cicely  dislikes  dreams?" 

"  Well  she  may  !"  was  the  thought  of  Jack  Bruce's 
sister.  What  she  said,  with  a  short  laugh,  was, 
"You  had  better  tell  her  to  be  careful  about  eating 
hot  breads." 

"  Would  you  have  her  eat  cold  bread  ?"  said  Miss 
Sabina,  in  surprise.  "  I  didn't  mean  that  her  nights 
were  disturbed;  I  only  meant  that  she  dislikes  the 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  37 

telling  of  dreams — a  habit  so  common  at  breakfast, 
you  know.  I  thought  I  would  just  mention  it." 

Eve  gave  another  abrupt  laugh.  "  Do  you  fear  I 
am  going  to  tell  her  mine  ?  She  would  not  find  them 
all  of  sugar." 

"  I  did  not  mean  yours  especially.  She  has  such 
a  curious  way  of  shutting  her  teeth  when  people  be 
gin — such  pretty  little  white  teeth  as  they  are,  too, 
dear  child  !  And  she  doesn't  like  reading  aloud 
either." 

"That  must  be  a  deprivation  to  you,"  said  Eve, 
her  tone  more  kindly. 

"  It  is.  I  have  always  been  extremely  fond  of  it. 
Are  you  familiar  with  Milton  ?  His  '  Comus  '  ?  " 

"  '  Sabrina  fair,  listen  where  thou  art  sitting?" 
quoted  Eve,  smiling. 

"  Yes. 

"  '  Sabrina  fair,  listen  where  thou  art  sitting, 
Under  the  glassy,  cool,  translucent  wave, 
In  twisted  braids  of  lilies  knitting — '  " 

said  the  Southern  lady  in  her  murmurous  voice. 
"  You  don't  know  what  a  pleasure  it  has  always  been 
to  me  that  I  am  named  Sabrina.  The  English  orig 
inated  'Cornus;'  I  like  the  English,  they  are  so  cul 
tivated." 

"Do  you  see  many  of  them  here  ?" 

"Not  many.  I  am  sorry  to  say  my  father  does 
not  like  them;  he  thinks  them  affected." 

"That  is  the  last  thing  I  should  call  them." 

"  Well,  those  who  come  here  really  do  say  '  ser 
pents  '  and  '  crocodiles.'  " 

"  Do  you  mean  as  an  oath  ?"  said  Eve,  thinking 
vaguely  of  "  Donner  und  blitzen." 


38  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  As  an  oath  ?  I  have  never  heard  it  used  in  that 
way,"  answered  Miss  Sabrina,  astonished.  "I  mean 
that  they  call  the  snakes  serpents,  and  the  alligators 
crocodiles;  my  father  thinks  that  so  very  affected. " 

Thus  the  wan-cheeked  mistress  of  Romney  en 
deavored  to  entertain  their  guest. 

That  night  Eve  was  sitting  by  her  fire.  The  mat 
tress  of  Meadows  was  no  longer  on  the  floor;  the 
English  girl  had  started  on  her  return  journey  the 
day  before,  escorted  to  the  pier  by  all  the  blacks  of 
the  island,  respectful  and  wondering.  The  presence 
of  little  Jack  asleep  in  his  crib  behind  a  screen,  with 
Pilsey  on  her  pallet  beside  him,  made  the  large  wind 
swept  chamber  less  lonely;  still  its  occupant  felt 
overwhelmed  with  gloom.  There  was  a  light  tap  at 
the  door,  and  Cicely  entered;  she  had  taken  off  her 
gay  blue  frock,  and  wore  a  white  dressing-gown. 
"I  thought  I'd  see  if  you  were  up."  She  went 
across  and  looked  at  Jack  for  a  moment;  then  she 
came  back  to  the  fire.  "  You  haven't  touched  your 
hair,  nor  unbuttoned  a  button;  are  you  always  like 
that?" 

"Like  what?" 

"Trim  and  taut,  like  a  person  going  out  on  horse 
back.  I  should  love  to  see  you  with  your  hair  down; 
I  should  love  to  see  you  run  and  shriek  !" 

"  I  fear  you  are  not  likely  to  see  either." 

Cicely  brought  her  little  teeth  together  with  a 
click.  "  I've  got  to  get  something  over  in  the  north 
wing;  will  you  come  ?  The  wind  blows  so,  it's  splen 
did  !" 

"  I  will  go  if  you  wish,"  said  Eve. 

They  went  down  the  corridor  and  turned  into  an 
other,  both  of  them  lighted  by  the  streaks  of  moon- 


JUPITER,    LIGHTS.  39 

light  which  came  through  the  half-closed  or  broken 
shutters;  the  moon  was  nearly  at  its  full,  and  very 
brilliant;  a  high  wind  was  careering  by  outside — it 
cried  at  the  corner  of  the  house  like  a  banshee.  At 
the  end  of  the  second  hall  Cicely  led  the  way  through 
a  labyrinth  of  small  dark  chambers,  now  up  a  step, 
now  down  a  step,  hither  and  thither;  finally  opening 
a  door,  she  ushered  Eve  into  a  long,  high  room, 
lighted  on  both  sides  by  a  double  row  of  windows, 
one  above  the  other.  Here  there  were  no  shutters, 
and  the  moonlight  poured  in,  making  the  empty 
space,  with  its  white  walls  and  white  floor,  as  light 
as  day.  "  It's  the  old  ballroom,"  said  Cicely.  "Wait 
here;  1  will  be  back  in  a  moment."  She  was  off  like 
a  flash,  disappearing  through  a  far  door. 

Eve  waited,  perforce.  If  she  had  felt  sure  that 
she  could  find  her  way  back  to  her  room,  she  would 
have  gone;  but  she  did  not  feel  sure.  As  to  leaving 
Cicely  alone  in  that  remote  and  disused  part  of  the 
house,  at  that  late  hour  of  the  night,  she  cared 
nothing  for  that ;  Eve  Avas  hard  with  people  she 
did  not  like;  she  did  not  realize  herself  how  hard 
she  was.  She  went  to  one  of  the  windows  and 
looked  out. 

These  lower  windows  opened  on  a  long  veranda. 
The  veranda  was  only  a  foot  above  the  ground;  any 
one,  Eve  reflected,  could  cross  its  uneven  surface 
and  look  in;  she  almost  expected  to  see  some  one 
cross,  and  peer  in  at  her,  his  face  opposite  hers  on 
the  other  side  of  the  pane.  The  moonlight  shone  on 
the  swaying  evergreens;  within  sight  were  the  wa 
ters  of  the  Sound.  Presently  she  became  conscious 
of  a  current  of  wind  blowing  through  the  room,  and 
turned  to  see  what  caused  it.  There  had  been  no 


40  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

sound  of  an  opening  door,  or  any  other  sound,  but  a 
figure  was  approaching,  coming  down  the  moonlit 
space  rapidly  with  a  waving  motion.  It  was  covered 
with  something  transparent  that  glittered  and  shone; 
its  outlines  were  vague.  It  came  nearer  and  nearer, 
without  a  sound.  Then  a  mass  of  silvery  gauze  was 
thrown  back,  revealing  Cicely  attired  in  an  old-fash 
ioned  ball  dress  made  of  lace  interwoven  with  silver 
threads  and  decked  with  little  silvery  stars;  there 
was  a  silver  belt  high  up  under  her  arms,  and  a 
wreath  of  the  silvery  stars  shone  in  her  hair.  She 
stood  a  moment;  then  snatching  up  the  gauze  which 
had  fallen  at  her  feet,  she  held  one  end  of  it,  and  let 
the  other  blow  out  on  the  strong  cold  wind  which 
now  filled  the  room.  With  this  cloudy  streamer  in 
her  hand,  she  began  lightly  and  noiselessly  to  dance, 
moving  over  the  moonlit  floor,  now  with  the  gauze 
blowing  out  in  front  of  her,  now  waving  behind  her  as 
she  flew  along.  Suddenly  she  let  it  drop,  and,  com 
ing  to  Eve,  put  her  arms  round  her  waist  and  forced 
her  forward.  Eve  resisted.  But  Cicely's  hands 
were  strong,  her  hold  tenacious;  she  drew  her  sister- 
in-law  down  the  room  in  a  wild  gallopade.  In  the 
midst  of  it,  giving  a  little  jump,  she  seized  Eve's 
comb.  Eve's  hair,  already  loosened,  fell  down  on 
her  shoulders.  Cicely  clapped  her  hands,  and  began 
to  take  little  dancing  steps  to  the  tune  of  "  Nigger- 
less,  niggerless,  nig-ig-ig-gerless  !"  chanted  in  a  sil 
very  voice.  When  she  came  to  "less,"  she  held  out 
her  gleaming  skirt,  and  dipped  down  in  a  wild  little 
courtesy. 

Eve  picked  up  her  comb  and  turned  back  towards 
the  door. 

Cicely  danced  on  ahead,  humming  her  song;  they 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  41 

passed  through  the  labyrinth  of  dark  little  rooms, 
the  glimmering  dress  acting  as  guide  through  the 
dimness.  Cicely  went  as  far  as  the  second  hall; 
here  she  stopped. 

"  It's  the  wind,  you  know,"  she  said,  in  her  usual 
voice;  "when  it  blows  like  this,  I  always  have  to  do 
something;  sometimes  I  call  out  and  shout.  But  I 
don't  care  for  it,  really;  I  don't  care  for  anything  !" 
Her  face,  as  she  spoke,  looked  set  and  melancholy. 
She  opened  a  door  and  disappeared. 

The  next  day  there  was  nothing  in  her  expression 
to  indicate  that  there  had  been  another  dance  at 
Romney  the  night  before,  besides  the  one  at  the 
negro  quarters. 

Eve  was  puzzled.  She  had  thought  her  so  unim 
aginative  and  quiet;  "a  passionless,  practical  little 
creature,  cool  and  unimpulsive,  whose  miniature 
beauty  led  poor  Jack  astray,  and  made  him  believe 
that  she  had  a  soul !"  This  had  been  her  estimate. 
She  was  alone  with  the  baby;  she  took  him  to  the 
window  and  looked  at  him  earnestly.  The  little 
man  smiled  back  at  her,  playing  with  the  crape  of 
her  dress.  No,  there  was  nothing  of  Cicely  here; 
the  blue  eyes,  golden  hair,  and  frank  smile — all  were 
his  father  over  again. 

"  We'll  make  that  Mr.  Morrison  come  back,  baby; 
and  then  you  and  I  will  go  away  together,"  she 
whispered,  stroking  his  curls. 

"Meh  Kiss'm,"  said  Jack.  It  was  as  near  as  he 
could  come  to  "  Merry  Christmas." 

"  Before  another  Christmas  I'll  get  you  away  from 
her  forever  /"  murmured  the  aunt,  passionately. 


42  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 


V. 

"  OUT  rowing  ?  If  you  are  doing  it  to  entertain 
me — "  said  Eve. 

"I  should  never  think  of  that;  there's  only  one 
thing  here  that  entertains  you,  and  that's  baby," 
Cicely  answered.  She  spoke  without  insistence;  her 
eyes  had  their  absent-minded  expression. 

"  Cicely,  give  him  to  me,"  Eve  began.  She  must 
put  her  wish  into  words  some  time.  "  If  I  could 
only  make  you  feel  how  much  I  long  for  it !  I  will 
devote  my  life  to  him;  and  it  will  be  a  pleasure  to 
me,  a  charity,  because  I  am  so  alone  in  the  world. 
You  are  not  alone;  you  have  other  ties.  Listen, 
Cicely,  I  will  make  any  arrangement  you  like;  you 
shall  always  have  the  first  authority,  but  let  me  have 
him  to  live  with  me;  let  me  take  him  away  when  I 
go.  I  will  even  acknowledge  everything  you  have 
said:  my  brother  was  much  older  than  you  were; 
it's  natural  that  those  months  with  him  should  seem 
to  you  now  but  an  episode — something  that  hap 
pened  at  the  beginning  of  your  life,  but  which  need 
not  go  on  to  its  close." 

"  I  was  young,"  said  Cicely,  musingly. 

"  Young  to  marry — yes." 

"  No;  I  mean  young  to  have  everything  ended." 

"  But  that  is  what  I  am  telling  you,  it  must  not 
be  ended;  Mr.  Morrison  must  come  back  to  you." 

"  He  may,"  answered  Cicely,  looking  at  her  com 
panion  for  a  moment  with  almost  a  solemn  expres 
sion. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  43 

"  Then  give  baby  to  me  now,  and  let  me  go  away 
— before  he  comes." 

Cicely  glanced  off  over  the  water;  they  were 
standing  on  the  low  bank  above  the  Sound.  "  He 
could  not  go  north  now,  in  the  middle  of  the  winter," 
she  answered,  after  a  moment. 

"  In  the  early  spring,  then  ?" 

"  I  don't  know;  perhaps." 

Eve's  heart  gave  a  bound.  She  was  going  to  gain 
her  point. 

Having  been  brought  up  by  a  man,  she  had  learned 
to  do  without  the  explanations,  the  details,  which 
are  dear  to  most  feminine  minds;  so  all  she  said  was, 
"  That's  agreed,  then."  She  was  so  happy  that  a 
bright  flush  rose  in  her  cheeks,  and  her  smile,  as  she 
spoke  these  last  few  words,  was  very  sweet;  those 
lips,  which  Miss  Sabrina  had  thought  so  sullen,  had 
other  expressions. 

Cicely  looked  at  her.     "  You  may  marry  too." 

Eve  laughed.  "  There  is  no  danger.  To  show 
you,  to  make  you  feel  as  secure  as  I  do,  I  will  tell 
you  that  there  have  been  one  or  two — friends  of 
Jack's  over  there.  Apparently  I  am  not  made  of 
inflammable  material." 

"  When  you  are  sullen — perhaps  not.  But  when 
you  are  as  you  are  now  ?" 

"  I  shall  always  be  sullen  to  that  sort  of  thing. 
Hut  we  needn't  be  troubled;  there  won't  be  an  array  ! 
To  begin  with,  I  am  twenty-eight;  and  to  end  with, 
every  one  will  know  that  I  have  willed  my  property 
to  baby;  and  that  makes  an  immense  difference." 

"  How  does  it  make  a  difference?" 

"  In  opportunities  for  marrying,  if  not  also — as  I 
really  believe — for  falling  in  love." 


44  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  I  don't  see  what  difference  it  makes." 

"True,  you  do  not,"  Eve  replied;  "you  are  the 
most  extraordinary  people  in  the  world,  you  South 
erners;  I  have  been  here  nearly  a  month,  and  I  am 
still  constantly  struck  by  it — you  never  think  of 
money  at  all.  And  the  strangest  point  is,  that  al 
though  you  never  think  of  it,  you  don't  in  the  least 
know  how  to  get  on  without  it;  you  cannot  improve 
anything,  you  can  only  endure." 

"  If  you  will  tell  Dilsey  to  get  baby  ready,  I  will 
see  to  the  boat,"  answered  Cicely.  She  was  never 
interested  in  general  questions. 

Presently  they  were  afloat.  They  were  in  a  large 
row-boat,  with  Pomp,  Plato,  Uncle  Abram,  and  a 
field  hand  at  the  oars;  Cicely  steered;  Eve  and  lit 
tle  Jack  were  the  passengers.  The  home-island  was 
four  miles  long,  washed  by  the  ocean  on  one  side, 
the  Sound  on  the  other;  on  the  north,  Singleton  Isl 
and  lay  very  near;  but  on  the  south  there  was  a 
broad  opening,  the  next  island  being  six  miles  dis 
tant.  Here  stood  Jupiter  Light ;  this  channel  was 
a  sea-entrance  not  only  to  the  line  of  Sounds,  but 
also  to  towns  far  inland,  for  here  opened  on  the  west 
a  great  river-mouth,  through  which  flowed  to  the  sea 
a  broad,  slow  stream  coming  from  the  cotton  coun 
try.  They  were  all  good  sailors,  as  they  had  need 
to  be  for  such  excursions,  the  Sounds  being  often 
rough.  The  bright  winter  air,  too,  was  sharp;  but 
Eve  was  strong,  and  did  not  mind  it,  and  the  ladies 
of  Romney,  like  true  Southerners,  never  believed 
that  it  was  really  cold,  cold  as  it  is  at  the  North. 
The  voyages  in  the  row-boat  had  been  many;  they 
had  helped  to  fill  the  days,  and  the  sisters-in-law 
had  had  not  much  else  with  which  to  fill  them;  they 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  45 

had  remained  as  widely  apart  as  in  the  beginning, 
Eve  absorbed  in  her  own  plans,  Cicely  in  her  own 
indifference.  Little  Jack  was  always  of  the  party, 
as  his  presence  made  dialogue  easy.  They  had  float 
ed  many  times  through  the  salt  marshes  between  the 
rattling  reeds,  they  had  landed  upon  other  islands, 
whose  fields,  like  those  of  Romney,  had  once  been 
fertile,  but  which  now  showed  submerged  expanses 
behind  the  broken  dikes,  wTith  here  and  there  an 
abandoned  rice-mill.  Sometimes  they  went  inland 
up  the  river,  rowing  slowly  against  the  current; 
sometimes,  when  it  was  calm,  they  went  out  to  sea. 
To-day  they  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the  Sound. 

"  What  a  long  house  Romney  is  !"  said  Eve,  look 
ing  back.  She  did  not  add,  "And  if  you  drop  any 
thing  on  the  floor  at  one  end  it  shakes  the  other." 

"  Yes,  it's  large,"  Cicely  answered.  She  perceived 
no  fault  in  it. 

"And  the  name;  you  know  there's  a  Romney  in 
Kent  ?" 

"Is  there?" 

"  And  your  post-oflice,  too;  when  I  think  of  your 
Warwick,  with  its  one  wooden  house,  those  spectral 
white  sand-hills,  the  wind,  and  the  tall  light-house, 
and  then  when  I  recall  the  English  Warwick,  with 
its  small,  closely  built  streets,  and  the  great  castle 
looking  down  into  the  river  Avon,  I  wonder  if  the 
first-corners  here  didn't  feel  lost  sometimes.  All 
the  rivers  in  central  England,  put  together,  would 
be  drowned  out  of  sight  in  that  great  yellow  stream 
of  yours  over  there." 

But  Cicely's  imagination  took  no  flight  towards 
the  first-comers,  nor  towards  the  English  rivers ;  and, 
in  another  moment,  Eve's  had  come  hastily  home- 


40  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ward,  for  little  Jack  coughed.  "  He  is  taking  cold  !" 
she  exclaimed.  "  Let  us  go  back." 

"  It's  a  splendid  day;  he  will  take  no  cold,"  Cicely 
answered.  "  But  we  will  go  back  if  you  wish."  She 
watched  Eve  fold  a  shawl  round  the  little  boy.  "  You 
ought  to  have  a  child  of  your  own,  Eve,"  she  said, 
with  her  odd  little  laugh. 

"  And  you  ought  never  to  have  had  one,"  Eve  re 
sponded. 

As  they  drew  near  the  landing,  they  perceived 
Miss  Sabrina  on  the  bank.  "  She  has  on  her  bonnet ! 
Where  can  she  be  going?"  said  Cicely.  "Oil,  I 
know;  she  will  ask  you  to  row  to  Singleton  Island, 
to  return  Mrs.  Singleton's  call." 

"  But  Jack  looks  so  pale — " 

"  You're  too  funny,  Eve  !  How  do  you  suppose 
we  have  taken  care  of  him  all  this  time — before  you 
came  ?"  Eve's  tone  was  often  abrupt,  but  Cicely's 
was  never  that;  the  worst  you  could  say  of  it  was 
that  its  sweetness  was  sometimes  mocking. 

When  they  reached  the  landing,  Miss  Sabrina  pro 
posed  her  visit;  "  that  is,  if  you  care  to  go,  my  dear. 
Dilsey  told  me  that  she  saw  you  coming  back,  so  I 
put  on  my  bonnet  on  the  chance." 

"  Eve  is  going,"  remarked  Cicely,  stepping  from 
the  boat;  "she  wants  to  see  Rupert,  lie  is  such  a 
sweet  little  boy." 

Dilsey  took  Jack,  and  presently  Miss  Sabrina  and 
her  guest  were  floating  northward.  Eve  longed  to 
put  her  triumph  into  words:  "The  baby  is  mim'  ! 
In  the  spring  I  am  to  have  him."  But  she  refrained. 
"  When  does  your  spring  begin?"  she  asked.  "In 
February  ?" 

"  In  March,  rather,"  answered  Miss  Sabrina.    "  lie- 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  47 

fore  that  it  is  dangerous  to  make  changes;  I  myself 
have  never  been  one  to  put  on  thin  dresses  with  the 
pingniculas." 

"  What  are  pinguiculas? — Birds  ?" 

"  Tliey  are  flowers,"  responded  Miss  Sabrina, 
mildly. 

"  It  will  be  six  weeks,  then ;  to-day  is  the  fifteenth." 

"Six  weeks  to  what?" 

"  To  March ;  to  spring." 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  begins  on  the  very  first 
day,"  remarked  Miss  Sabrina. 

"  Mine  shall  !"  thought  Eve. 

Romney  was  near  the  northern  end  of  the  home- 
island;  the  voyage,  therefore,  was  a  short  one.  The 
chimneys  of  Singleton  House  came  into  view;  but 
the  boat  passed  on,  still  going  northward.  "  Isn't 
that  the  house?"  Eve  asked. 

"  Yes,  but  the  landing  is  farther  on ;  we  always  go  to 
the  landing, and  then  walk  back  through  the  avenue." 

But  when  the  fagade  appeared  at  the  end  of  the 
neglected  road — a  walk  of  fifteen  minutes — there 
seemed  to  Eve  hardly  occasion  for  so  much  cere 
mony;  the  old  mansion  was  in  a  worse  condition 
than  Romney;  it  sidled  and  leaned,  and  one  of  its 
wings  was  a  roofless  ruin,  with  the  planking  of  the 
floor  half  tilted  up,  half  fallen  into  the  cellar.  Miss 
Sabrina  betrayed  no  perception  of  the  effect  of  this 
upon  a  stranger;  she  crossed  the  veranda  with  her 
lady-like  step,  and  said  to  a  solemn  little  negro  boy 
who  was  standing  in  the  doorway:  "  Is  Mrs.  Single 
ton  at  home  this  evening,  Boliver?  Can  she  sec  us? 
— Miss  Bruce  and  Miss  Abercrombie." 

An  old  negro  woman  came  round  the  corner  of 
the  house,  and,  cuffing  the  boy  for  standing  there, 


48  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ushered  the  visitors  into  a  room  on  the  right  of  the 
broad  hall.  The  afternoon  had  grown  colder,  but 
the  doors  and  windows  all  stood  open;  a  negro  girl, 
who  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  Powlyne,  entered, 
and  chased  out  a  chicken  who  was  prowling  about 
over  the  matted  floor;  then  she  knelt  down,  with  her 
long  thin  black  legs  stretched  out  behind,  and  tried 
to  light  a  fire  on  the  hearth.  But  the  wind  was  evi 
dently  in  the  wrong  direction  for  the  requirements 
of  that  chimney;  white  smoke  puffed  into  the  room 
in  clouds. 

"  Let  us  go  out  on  the  veranda,"  suggested  Eve, 
half  clicked. 

"  Oh,  but  surely —  When  they  have  ushered  us 
in  here  ?"  responded  Miss  Sabrina,  remonstratingly, 
though  she  too  was  nearly  strangled.  "  It  will  blow 
away  in  a  few  minutes,  I  assure  you." 

Much  of  it  still  remained  when  Mrs.  Singleton  en- 
te/ed.  She  paid  no  more  attention  to  it  than  Miss 
Sabrina  had  done;  she  welcomed  her  guests  warmly, 
/kissing  Eve  on  both  cheeks,  although  she  had  never 
/  seen  her  before.  "  I  have  been  so  much  interested 
in  hearing  that  you  are  from  England,  Miss  Bruce," 
she  said,  taking  a  seat  beside  her.  "  We  always 
think  of  England  as  our  old  home;  I  reckon  you 
will  see  much  down  here  to  remind  you  of  it." 

Eve  looked  about  her — at  the  puffing  smoke,  at 
the  wandering  chicken,  who  still  peered  through 
one  of  the  windows.  "  I  am  not  English,"  she 
said. 

"But  you  have  lived  there  so  long;  ever  since 
you  were  a  child;  surely  it  is  the  same  thing,"  in 
terposed  Miss  Sabrina.  A  faint  color  rose  in  her 
cheeks  for  a  momen*  Jrfve  perceived  that  she  pre- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  49 

ferrod  to  present  an  English  rather  than  a  Northern 
guest, 

"  We  arc  all  English,  if  you  come  to  that,"  said 
Mrs.  Singleton,  confidently.  She  was  small,  white- 
haired,  with  a  sweet  face,  and  a  sweet  voice  that 
drawled  a  little. 

"  Eve  is  much  interested  in  our  nig-roes,"  pur 
sued  Miss  Sabrina;  "  you  know  to  her  they  are  a 
novelty." 

"  Ah  dear,  yes,  our  poor,  poor  people  !  When  I 
think  of  them,  Miss  Bruce,  scattered  and  astray, 
with  no  one  to  advise  them,  it  makes  my  heart 
bleed.  For  they  must  be  suffering  in  so  many  ways; 
take  the  one  instance  of  the  poor  women  in  their 
confinements;  we  used  to  go  to  them,  and  be  with 
them  to  cheer  their  time  of  trial.  But  now,  sepa 
rated  from  us,  from  our  care  and  oversight,  what 
can  they  do  ?  If  the  people  who  have  been  so  rash 
in  freeing  them  had  only  thought  of  even  that  one 
thing  !  But  I  suppose  they  did  not  think  of  it,  and 
naturally,  because  the  abolitionist  societies,  we  are 
told,  were  composed  principally  of  old  maids." 

Eve  laughed.  "  Why  can't  they  have  nurses,  as 
other  people  do  ?" 

"  You  don't  mean  regular  monthly  nurses,  of 
course  ?" 

"  Why  not? — if  they  can  afford  to  pay  for  them. 
They  might  club  together  to  supply  them." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  that  would  be  at  all  appropri 
ate,  really.  And  Eve  does  not  mean  it,  I  assure 
you,"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  coming  to  the  rescue;  "her 
views  are  perfectly  reasonable,  dear  Mrs.  Singleton; 
you  would  be  surprised." 

"  You  would  indeed  !"  Eve  thought. 
4 


50  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Bat  they  talked  no  more  of  the  nig-roes. 

"  How  is  Miss  Hillsborough  ?"  Miss  Sabrina  asked. 

"  Right  well,  I  am  glad  to  say.  My  dear  Aunt 
Peggy,  Miss  Bruce;  and  what  she  is  to  me  I  can 
hardly  tell  you  !  You  know  I  am  something  of  a 
talker  " — here  Mrs.  Singleton  laughed  softly.  "  And 
we  arc  so  much  alone  here  now,  that,  were  it  not  for 
Aunt  Peggy,  I  should  fairly  have  to  talk  to  the 
chickens !"  (One  at  least  would  be  ready,  Eve 
thought.)  "  Don't  you  know  that  there  are  ever  so 
many  little  things  each  day  that  we  want  to  soy  to 
somebody?"  Mrs.  Singleton  went  on.  "Thinking 
them  is  not  enough.  And  these  dear  people,  like 
Aunt  Peggy,  who  sit  still  and  listen; — it  isn't  what 
they  answer  that's  of  consequence;  in  fact  they  sel 
dom  say  much;  it's  just  the  chance  they  give  us  of 
putting  our  own  thought  into  words  and  seeing  how 
it  looks.  It  does  make  such  a  difference." 

"You  are  fortunate,"  Eve  answered.  "And  then 
you  have  your  little  boy,  too;  Cicely  has  told  me 
about  him — Rupert;  she  says  he  is  a  dear  little  fel 
low." 

"  Dear  heart !"  exclaimed  Miss  Sabrina,  distressed. 
"Cicely  is  sometimes — yes — 

But  Mrs.  Singleton  laughed  merrily.  "  I  will  show 
him  to  you  presently,"  she  said. 

"Mr.  Singleton  is  so  extraordinarily  agreeable!" 
said  Miss  Sabrina,  with  unwonted  animation. 

"Oh  yes,  he  is  wonderful;  and  he  is  a  statesman 
too,  a  second  Patrick  Henry.  But  then  as  regards 
the  little  things  of  each  day,  you  know,  we  don't  go 
to  our  husbands  with  those." 

"What  do  you  do,  then? — I  mean  with  .the  hus 
bands,"  Eve  asked. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  51 

"  I  think  we  admire  them,"  answered  Mrs.  Single 
ton,  simply. 

Lucasta,  the  negro  girl,  now  appeared  with  a  tray 
"Pray  take  some  Madeira,"  said  their  hostess,  filling 
the  tiny  glasses.  "  And  plum-cake." 

Eve  declined.  But  Miss  Sabrina  accepted  both 
refreshments,  and  Mrs.  Singleton  bore  her  company. 
The  wine  was  unspeakably  bad,  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  say  what  had  entered  into  its  composi 
tion;  but  Madeira  had  formed  part  of  the  old-time 
hospitality  of  the  house,  and  something  that  was  sold 
under  that  name  (at  a  small  country  store  on  the 
mainland  opposite)  was  still  kept  in  the  cut-glass 
decanter,  to  be  served  upon  occasion. 

Presently  a  very  tall,  very  portly,  and  very  hand 
some  old  man  (he  well  merited  three  verys)  came  in, 
leaning  on  a  cane.  "Miss  Bruce — little  Rupert; 
our  dear  little  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Singleton,  introducing 
him.  She  had  intended  to  laugh,  but  she  forgot  it; 
she  gazed  at  him  admiringly. 

The  master  of  the  house  put  aside  his  cane,  and 
looked  about  for  a  chair.  As  he  stood  there,  helpless 
for  an  instant,  he  seemed  gigantic. 

Eve  laughed. 

Miss  Sabrina  murmured,  "  Pleasantry,  dear  Mr. 
Singleton; — our  foolish  pleasantry." 

After  the  old  gentleman  had  found  his  chair  and 
seated  himself,  and  had  drawn  a  breath  or  two,  he 
gave  a  broad  slow  smile.  "Xanny,  are  you  in  the 
habit  of  introducing  me  to  your  young  lady  friends 
as  your  dear  little  Rupert? — your  little  Rupe?" 

"Rupe?  Never!"  answered  Mrs.  Singleton,  in 
dignantly. 

"  Only  our  foolish  pleasantry,"  sighed  Miss  Sabrina, 
apologetically. 


52  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"It  was  Cicely,"  Eve  explained. 

"  If  it  was  Cicely,  it  was  perfect,"  the  lame  colos 
sus  answered,  gallantly.  "  Cicely  is  heavenly.  Upon 
my  word,  she  is  the  most  engaging  young  person  I 
have  ever  seen  in  my  life." 

He  then  ate  some  plum-cake,  and  paid  Eve  com 
pliments  even  more  handsome  than  these. 

After  a  while  he  imparted  the  news;  he  had  been 
down  to  the  landing  to  meet  the  afternoon  steamer, 
which  brought  tidings  from  the  outside  Avorld. 
"  Melton  is  dead,"  he  said.  You  know  whom  I  mean? 
Melton,  the  great  stockbroker;  one  of  the  richest 
men  living,  I  suppose." 

"Oh!  where  is  his  soul  now?"  said  Mrs.  Sin 
gleton.  Her  emotion  was  real,  her  sweet  face  grew 
pallid. 

"  Why,  I  have  never  heard  that  he  was  a  bad  man, 
especially,"  remarked  Eve,  surprised. 

"He  was  sure  to  be — making  all  that  money;  it 
could  not  be  otherwise.  Oh,  what  is  his  agony  at 
this  very  moment  !" 

But  Rupert  did  not  sympathize  with  this  mourn- 
fulness;  when  three  ladies  were  present,  conversa 
tion  should  be  light,  poetical.  "  Miss  Bruce,"  he  said, 
turning  towards  Eve — he  was  so  broad  that  that  in 
itself  made  a  landscape — "  have  you  ever  noticed 
the  appropriateness  of  'County  Guy'  to  this  neigh 
borhood  of  ours?" 

"No,"  Eve  answered.  But  the  words  brought 
her  father  to  her  mind  with  a  rush:  how  often,  when 
she  was  a  child,  had  he  beguiled  a  dull  walk  with  a 
chant,  half  song,  half  declamation : 

"Ob,  County  Guy,  the  hour  is  nigh, 
The  sun  has  left  the  lea." 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  53 

She  looked  at  her  host,  but  she  did  not  hear  him;  a 
mist  gathered  in  her  eyes. 

"  '  Oh,  County  Guy,  the  hour  is  nigh/  " 

began  the   colossus,  placing  his  plum-cake   on    his 
knee  provisionally. 

"  '  The  sun  has  left  the  lea; 
The  orange  flower  perfumes  the  bower, 

The  breeze  is  on  the  sea. 
The  lark  his  lay  who  trilled  all  day 

Sits  hushed  his  partner  nigh. 
Breeze,  bird,  and  flower  confess  the  hour; 

But  where  is  County  Guy?' 

"  The  orange  flower  perfumes  the  bower;  here  we 
have  the  orange  flower  and  the  lea,  the  bower  and 
the  sea;  and  it's  very  rarely  that  you  find  all  four 
together.  '  The  lark  his  lay  who  trilled  all  day ' 
— what  music  it  is  !  There's  no  one  like  Scott." 

His  lameness  prevented  him  from  accompanying 
his  guests  on  their  walk  back  to  the  boat;  he  stood 
in  the  doorway  leaning  on  his  cane  and  waving  a 
courtly  farewell,  while  the  chicken,  with  slowly  con 
sidering  steps,  crossed  the  veranda  and  entered  the 
drawing-room  again. 

"Miss  Sabrina,  please  tell  me  what  you  know  of 
Ferdinand  Morrison,"  Eve  began,  as  soon  a's  a  turn 
in  the  road  hid  the  old  house  from  their  view. 

Miss  Sabrina  had  expected  to  talk  about  the  Sin 
gletons.  "Oh,  Mr.  Morrison?  we  did  not  see  him 
ourselves,  you  know." 

"  But  you  must  have  heard." 

"  Certainly,  we  heard.  The  Singletons  are  delight 
ful  people,  are  they  not  ?  So  cultivated  !  Th^ 
house  has  always  been  one  of  the  most  agreenme  OB 
the  Sound." 


54  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  I  dare  say.  But  about  Ferdinand  Morrison  ?" 
five  went  on.  For  it  was  not  often  that  she  had  i-o 
good  an  opportunity;  at  Romney,  if  there  was  no 
one  else  present,  there  were  always  the  servants, 
who  came  in  and  out  like  members  of  the  familv. 
"  Cicely  met  him  first  in  Savannah,  didn't  she  ?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Miss  Sabrina  (hut  giving  up  the 
Singletons  with  regret);  "she  went  to  pay  a  visit  to 
our  cousin  Emmeline;  and  then:  she  met  him.  From 
the  very  beginning  he  appeared  to  be  much  in  love 
Avith  her,  Cousin  Emmeline  wrote.  And  Cicely 
too — so  we  heard — appeared  to  care  for  him  from 
the  first  day.  At  least  Cousin  Emmeline  received 
that  impression;  Cicely,  of  course,  did  not  take  her 
into  her  confidence." 

"  Why  of  course  ?" 

"At  that  early  stage?  But  don't  you  think  that 
those  first  sweet  uncertainties  are  always  private  ? 
Mr.  Morrison  used  to  come  every  day,  and  take  her 
out  for  a  drive;  I  have  been  in  Savannah  myself, 
and  I  have  often  thought  that  probably  they  went 
to  Bonaventure — so  delightful  !  At  last,  one  even 
ing,  Cicely  told  Cousin  Emmeline  that  she  was  en 
gaged.  And  the  next  day  she  wrote  to  us.  She 
did  not  come  home;  they  were  married  there  at  Em- 
meline's." 

"And  none  of  you  went  to  the  wedding?" 

"There  were  only  father  and  I  to  go;  we  have 
not  always  been  able  to  do  as  we  wished,"  replied 
Miss  Sabrina,  gently. 

"  Mr.  Morrison  had  money,  I  suppose?" 

"  I  think  not;  we  have  never  been  told  so." 

"Didn't  you  ask?" 

"  That  was  for  Cicely,  wasn't  it  ?     I  dare  say  she 


JUPITEU    LIGHTS.  55 

knows.  We  could  only  hope,  father  and  I,  that  she 
would  be  happy;  but  I  fear  that  she  has  not  been, 
ah  no."  And  Miss  Sabrina  sighed. 

"  But  we  must  not  give  it  up  so,  she  is  still  so 
young.  Why  don't  you  write  to  Mr.  Morrison  your 
self,  and  tell  him,  command  him,  to  come  back  ?" 
suggested  Eve,  boldly. 

"  But — but  I  don't  know  where  he  is,"  answered 
Miss  Sabrina,  bewildered  by  this  sudden  attack. 

"  You  said  South  America." 

"  But  I  couldn't  write, '  Ferdinand  Morrison,  Es 
quire,  South  America.' " 

"Some  one  must  know.     His  relatives." 

"Yes,  there  is  his  brother,  and  a  most  devoted 
brother,  we  are  told,"  responded  Miss  Sabrina,  speak 
ing  more  fluently  now  that  she  had  launched  upon 
family  affection.  "  Yes,  indeed — from  all  we  have 
heard  of  Paul  Tennant,  we  are  inclined  to  think 
him  a  most  excellent  young  man.  He  may  not  have 
Ferdinand's  beauty  (we  are  told  that  Ferdinand  is 
remarkably  handsome);  and  it  is  probable,  too,  that 
he  has  not  Ferdinand's  cultivation,  for  he  is  a  busi 
ness  man,  and  has  always  lived  at  the  North. — I  beg 
your  pardon,  my  dear,  I  am  sure,"  said  the  Southern 
lady,  interrupting  herself  in  confusion. 

"It  doesn't  matter;  the  North  won't  die  of  it. 
If  you  know  where  this  brother  is —  But  why  has 
he  a  different  name  '?" 

"The  mother,  Mrs.  Tennant,  who  was  a  widow 
with  this  one  boy,  Paul,  married  one  of  the  Mary 
land  Morrisons — I  reckon  you  know  the  family. 
Ferdinand  is  the  child  of  this  second  marriage.  His 
father  and  mother  are  dead;  his  only  near  relative 
is  this  half-brother,  Paul." 


56  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  Write  to  Paul,  then,  and  find  out  where  Ferdi 
nand  is." 

"  This  is  a  plot,  isn't  it  ?"  answered  Miss  Sabrina, 
smiling.  "But  I  like  it;  it's  so  sweet  of  you  to  plan 
for  our  poor  Cicely's  happiness." 

"  You  needn't  thank  me  !     Then  you  will  write?" 

"  But  I  don't  know  where  Mr.  Tennant  is  either. 
— I  dare  say  Cicely  knows." 

"  But  if  you  ask  her,  she  will  suspect  something. 
And  if  I  ask  her,  it  will  be  worse  still !  Doesn't 
anybody  in  the  world  know  where  this  Paul  Ten 
nant  is  ?"  said  Eve,  irritably. 

"I  think  we  heard  that  it  was  some  place  where 
it  is  very  cold — I  remember  that.  It  might  have 
been  Canada,"  suggested  Sabrina,  reflectively. 

"  Canada  and  South  America — what  a  family  !" 
said  Eve,  in  despair. 

The  wind  had  risen,  the  homeward  voyage  was 
rough.  They  reached  Romney  to  find  little  Jack 
ill;  before  morning  he  was  struggling  with  an  attack 
of  croup. 

VI. 

"  CICELY,  what  did  you  say  to  those  people,  that 
they  stared  at  us  so  when  they  passed  ?" 

"  Oh,  they  asked  me  if  you  were  the  man  who 
went  round  with  the  panorama — to  explain  it,  you 
know.  So  I  told  them  that  you  were  the  celebrated 
Jessamine  family  —  you  and  Miss  Leontine  ;  and 
that  you  were  going  to  give  a  concert  in  Gary  Hun 
dred  to-night;  I  advised  them  to  go." 

"Bless  my  soul  ! — the  celebrated  Jessamine  fam 
ily?  What  possessed  you  ?" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  57 

"  Well,  they  saw  the  wagon,  and  they  thought  it 
looked  like  a  panorama.  They  seemed  to  want 
something,  so  I  told  them  that." 

Eve  broke  into  a  laugh. 

But  the  judge  put  on  his  spectacles,  and  walked 
round  the  wagon  with  indignant  step.  "  It  is  an 
infernal  color,  he  declared,  angrily. 

"  Our  good  Dickson  had  that  paint  on  hand — he 
told  me  about  it,"  explained  Miss  Leontine.  "  It 
was  left  over  " — here  she  paused.  "  I  don't  know 
what  you  will  think,  but  I  believe  it  really  was  left 
over  after  a  circus — or  was  it  a  menagerie  ?  At  any 
rate,  the  last  thing  that  was  exhibited  here  before 
the  war." 

The  vehicle  in  question  was  a  long-bodied,  two 
seated  wagon,  with  a  square  box  behind,  which 
opened  at  the  back  like  the  box  of  a  carrier's  cart; 
its  hue  was  the  liveliest  pea  green. 

"Dickson  had  no  business  to  give  it  to  us;  it  was 
a  damned  impertinence !"  said  the  judge,  with  a 
snort. 

"  Don't  spoil  your  voice,  when  you've  got  to  sing 
to-night,  grandpa,"  remarked  Cicely.  "And  you 
will  have  to  lead  out  Miss  Leontine — who  will  sing 
<  Waiting.'  " 

The  judge  glanced  at  Miss  Leontine.  He  could 
not  repress  a  grin. 

But  tall  Miss  Leontine  remained  amiable,  she  had 
never  heard  of  "  Waiting."  In  any  case  she  seldom 
penetrated  jokes;  they  seemed  to  her  insufficiently 
explained  ;  often,  indeed,  abstruse.  She  was  fifty- 
two,  and  very  maidenly;  her  bearing,  her  voice,  her 
expression,  were  all  timidly  virginal,  as  were  also 
the  tints  of  her  attire,  pale  blues  and  lavenders,  and 


58  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

faint  green.  Her  face  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to 
the  face  of  a  camel;  give  a  camel  a  pink-and- white 
complexion,  blue  eyes,  and  light-brown  hair  coming 
down  in  flat  bands  on  each  side  of  its  long  face,  and 
you  have  Miss  Leontine.  She  was  extraordinarily 
tall — she  attained  a  stature  of  nearly  six  feet.  HIT 
step,  as  if  conscious  of  this,  was  apologetic;  her  long 
narrow  back  leaned  forward  as  though  she  were  try 
ing  to  reduce  her  height  in  front  as  she  came  towards 
one.  She  wore  no  crinoline;  her  head  was  decked 
with  a  large  gypsy  hat,  from  which  floated  a  blue 
tissue  veil. 

The  little  party  of  four — Eve,  Cicely,  the  judge, 
and  Miss  Leontine — with  Master  Jack, had  driven  from 
Gary  Hundred  to  Wellington;  their  hostess,  Cousin 
Sarah  Cray,  had  an  old  horse,  and  this  wagon  had 
been  borrowed  from  Pickson,  the  village  grain er 
(who  had  so  mistakenly  saved  the  circus  paint);  it 
would  be  a  pleastmt  excursion  in  itself,  and  it  would 
be  good  for  Jack — which  last  \vas  the  principal  point 
with  them  all. 

For  the  much  longer  excursion  from  Abercrombie 
Island  to  this  inland  South  Carolina  village  had  been 
taken  on  Jack's  account  ;  the  attack  of  croup  had 
left  him  with  a  harassing  cough,  a  baby's  little  cough, 
which  is  so  distressing  to  the  ears  of  those  who  love 
him.  Eve  had  walked  about,  day  and  night,  carry 
ing  him  in  her  arms,  his  languid  head  on  her  shoul 
der;  she  could  not  bear  to  see  how  large  his  eyes 
looked  in  his  little  white  face  ;  she  did  not  sleep  ; 
she  could  scarcely  speak. 

"  We  might  go  to  Cousin  Sarah  Cray's  for  a  while, 
away  from  the  coast,"  Cicely  suggested.  She  was 
always  present  when  Eve  walked  restlessly  to  and 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  59 

fro;  but  she  did  riot  interfere,  she  let  Eve  have  the 
child. 

Eve  had  no  idea  who  or  where  was  Cousin  Sarah 
Cray,  hut  she  agreed  to  anything  that  would  take 
Jack  away  from  the  coast.  It  was  very  cold  now  at 
Romney  ;  the  Sound  was  dark  and  rough  all  the  time, 
the  sea  boomed,  the  winds  were  bitter.  They  had 
therefore  journeyed  inland,  Jack  and  Eve,  Cicely  and 
her  grandfather,  leaving  Miss  Sabrina  to  guard  the 
island-home  alone. 

When  they  reached  Gary  Hundred  and  the  softer 
air,  Jack  began  to  revive  ;  Eve  too  revived,  she  came 
back  to  daily  life  again.  One  of  the  first  things  she 
said  was  :  "  I  ought  not  to  be  staying  here,  Cicely  ; 
you  must  let  me  go  to  the  hotel ;  your  cousin  is  not 
my  cousin." 
""  Shu's  Jack's." 

"Do  you  mean  by  that  that  Jack  must  stay,  and 
if  he  does,  I  shall?  13 ut  it  isn't  decent;  here  we 
have  all  descended  upon  her  at  a  moment's  notice, 
and  filled  up  her  house,  and  tramped  to  and  fro.  She 
doesn't  appear  to  be  rich." 

"  We  are  all  as  poor  as  crows,  but  we  always  go 
and  stay  with  each  other  just  the  same.  As  for 
Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  she  loves  it.  Of  course  we  take 
her  as  we  find  her." 

"  We  do  indeed  !"  was  Eve's  thought,  "  It  is  all 
very  well  for  you,"  she  went  on,  aloud.  "  But  I  am 
a  stranger." 

"  Cousin  Sarah  Cray  doesn't  think  so  ;  she  thinks 
you  very  near — a  sister  of  her  cousin." 

"  If  you  count  in  that  way,  what  families  you 
must  have  !  But  why  shouldn't  we  all  go  to  the 
hotel,  and  take  her  with  us  ?  There's  an  idea." 


60  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

"For  one  reason,  there's  no  hotel  to  go  to,"  re 
sponded  Cicely,  laughing. 

They  continued,  therefore,  to  stay  with  Cousin 
Sarah  Cray ;  they  had  been  there  ten  days,  and 
Jack  was  so  much  better  that  Eve  gladly  accepted 
her  obligations,  for  the  present.  She  accepted,  too, 
the  makeshifts  of  the  rambling  housekeeping.  But 
if  the  housekeeping  was  of  a  wandering  order,  the 
welcome  did  not  wander — it  remained  fixed  ;  there 
was  something  beautiful  in  the  boundless  affection 
and  hospitality  of  poverty-stricken  Cousin  Sarah 
Cray. 

Bellington  was  a  ruin.  In  the  old  days  it  had  been 
the  custom  of  the  people  of  Gary  Hundred,  and  the 
neighboring  plantations,  to  drive  thither  now  and 
then  to  spend  an  afternoon  ;  the  terraces  and  fish 
ponds  were  still  to  be  seen,  together  with  the  re 
mains  of  the  Dutch  flower-garden,  and  the  great 
underground  kitchens  of  the  house,  which  had  been 
built  of  bricks  imported  from  Holland  a  hundred 
and  twenty  years  before.  In  the  corner  of  one  of 
the  fields  bordering  the  river  were  the  earthworks 
of  a  Revolutionary  fort ;  in  a  jungle  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  distant  there  was  a  deserted  church,  with  high 
pews,  mouldering  funeral  hatchments,  and  even  the 
insignia  of  George  the  Third  in  faded  gilt  over  the 
organ-loft.  Bellington  House  had  been  destroyed 
by  fire,  accidentally,  in  1 790.  Now,  when  there  were 
in  the  same  neighborhood  other  houses  which  had 
been  destroyed  by  fire,  not  accidentally,  there  was 
less  interest  in  the  older  ruin.  But  it  still  served  as 
an  excuse  for  a  drive,  and  drives  were  excellent  for 
the  young  autocrat  of  the  party,  to  whom  all,  includ 
ing  Miss  Leontine,  were  shamelessly  devoted. 


JUl'ITKR    LIGHTS.  61 

The  judge  did  his  duty  as  guide  ;  he  had  visited 
Bellington  more  times  than  he  could  count,  but  he 
again  led  the  way  (with  appropriate  discourse)  from 
the  iish-ponds  to  the  fort,  and  from  the  fort  to  the 
church,  Miss  Leontine,  in  her  floating  veil,  ambling 
beside  him. 

"When  the  sun  began  to  decline  they  returned  to 
their  pea-green  wagon.  The  judge  walked  round  it 
afresh.  Then  he  turned  away,  put  his  head  over  a 
bush,  and  muttered  on  the  other  side  of  it. 

"  What  is  he  saying?"  Eve  asked. 

"  I  am  afraid  '  cuss  words,'  as  the  darkies  call 
them,"  answered  Cicely,  composedly.  "  He  is  with 
out  doubt  a  very  desperate  old  man." 

Miss  Leontine  looked  distressed,  she  made  a  pre 
text  of  gathering  some  leaves  from  a  bush  at  a  lit 
tle  distance  ;  as  she  walked  away,  her  skirt  caught 
itself  behind  at  each  step  upon  the  tops  of  her  pru 
nella  boots,  which  were  of  the  pattern  called  "Con 
gress,"  with  their  white  straps  visible. 

"She  is  miserable  because  I  called  him  that,"  said 
Cicely  ;  "  she  thinks  him  perfect.  Grandpa,  I  have 
just  called  you  a  desperate  old  man." 

But  the  judge  had  resumed  his  grand  manner  ;  he 
assisted  the  ladies  in  climbing  to  their  high  seats, 
and  then,  mounting  to  his  own  place,  he  guided  the 
horse  down  the  uneven  avenue  and  into  the  broad 
road  again.  The  cotton  plantations  of  this  neigh 
borhood  had  suffered  almost  as  much  as  the  rice 
fields  of  Rornney  :  they  had  been  flooded  so  often 
that  much  of  the  land  was  now  worthless,  disin 
tegrated  and  overgrown  with  lespedeza.  They 
crossed  the  river  (which  had  done  the  damage)  on — 
or  rather  in — a  long  shaking  wooden  bridge,  cov- 


02  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ered  and  nearly  dark,  and  guarding  in  its  dusky  re 
cesses  a  strong  odor  of  the  stable.  Beyond  it  the 
judge  had  an  inspiration  :  he  would  go  across  the 
fields  by  one  of  the  old  cotton-tracks,  thus  shorten 
ing  the  distance  by  more  than  two  miles. 
"  Because  you're  ashamed  of 

'  Our  pea-green  wagon,  our  wagon  of  green, 
Lillibulero,  bullen-a-la,'" 

chanted  Cicely  on  the  back  seat. 

"Cecilia  !"  said  the  judge,  Avith  dignity. 

Eve  sat  beside  him;  courteously  he  entertained 
her.  "  Have  you  ever  reflected,  Miss  Bruce,  upon 
the  very  uninteresting  condition  of  the  world  at 
present  ?  Everything  is  known.  A\rhere  can  a  gen 
tleman  travel  now,  with  the  element  of  the  unex 
pected  as  a  companion  ?  There  are  positively  no 
lands  left  unvulgarized  save  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Poles." 

"  Central  Africa,"  Eve  suggested. 

"Africa?     I  think  I  said  for  gentlemen." 

"  You  turbulent  old  despot,  curb  yourself,"  said 
Cicely,  sotto  voce. 

"In  the  old  days,  Miss  Bruce,"  the  judge  went  on, 
"  we  had  Arabia,  AVC  had  Thibet,  AVC  had  Cham- 
Tart  ary  ;  we  could  arrive  on  camels  at  Erzerum. 
Hey  !  Avhat  are  you  about  there,  boy  ?  Turn  out  !" 

"Turn  out  yourself." 

The  track  had  passed  down  into  a  Avinding  holloAv 
between  sloping  banks  about  six  feet  high  ;  on  the 
other  side  of  a  curve  they  had  come  suddenly  upon 
an  empty  hay-cart  which  was  approaching  from  the 
opposite  direction,  drawn  by  two  mules  ;  the  driver, 
an  athletic  young  negro  with  an  insolent  face,  Avas 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  63 

walking  beside  his  team.  His  broad  cart  filled  every 
inch  of  the  track  ;  it  was  impossible  to  pass  it  with 
out  climbing  the  bank.  The  judge,  with  his  heavy 
wagon  and  OIK;  horse,  could  not  do  this  ;  but  it  would 
have  been  easy  for  the  mules  to  take  their  light  cart 
up  the  slope,  and  thus  leave  room  for  the  wagon. 

The  old  planter  could  not  believe  that  he  had 
heard  aright.  "Turn  out,  boy  !"  he  repeated,  with 
the  imperious  manner  which  only  a  lifetime  of  ab 
solute  authority  can  give. 

The  negro  brought  his  mules  up  until  their  noses 
touched  the  nose  of  the  horse  ;  then,  putting  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  he  planted  himself,  and  called 
out,  "  Wat  yer  gwine  ter  do  'bout  it  ?" 

In  an  instant  the  judge  was  on  his  feet,  whip  in 
hand.  But  Cicely  touched  him.  "  You  are  not  go 
ing  to  fight  with  him,  grandpa  ?"  she  said,  in  a  low 
tone.  "For  he  will  fight ;  he  isn't  in  the  least  afraid 
of  you." 

The  judge  had  now  readied  the  ground.  In  his 
rage  he  was  white,  with  his  eyes  blazing.  Eve, 
greatly  alarmed,  clasped  little  Jack  closer. 

Cicely  jumped  lightly  down.  "Grandpa,"  she 
said,  under  her  breath,  "  he  is  a  great  deal  stronger 
than  you  are,  and  after  he  has  struck  you  down  we 
shall  be  here  alone  with  him — think  of  that.  We 
will  all  get  out,  and  then  you  can  lead  the  horse  up 
t'.iu  bank,  and  go  by  him.  Dear  grandpa,  it  is  the 
onlv  way  ;  this  isn't  the  island,  this  is  South  Caro 
lina." 

Eve,  seeing  the  speechless  passion  of  the  old  man, 
had  not  believed  that  Cicely  would  prevail  ;  she  had 
closed  her  eyes  with  a  shuddering,  horrible  vision  of 
the  forward  rush,  the  wrested  whip,  and  the  silver- 


64  JCTITER  LIGHTS. 

Laired  head  in  the  dust.  But,  with  a  mighty  effort, 
trembling  like  a  leaf  with  his  repressed  rage,  the 
judge  put  up  his  hand  to  help  her  in  her  descent. 
She  accepted  his  aid  hurriedly,  giving  Jack  to 
Cicely  ;  Miss  Leontine  had  climbed  doAvn  alone, 
the  tears  dropping  on  her  cheeks  behind  her  veil. 
The  judge  then  led  the  horse  up  the  bank  and 
past  the  wagon,  the  negro  keeping  his  position  be 
side  his  mules  ;  the  ladies  followed  the  wagon,  and 
mounted  to  their  places  again  when  it  had  reached 
the  track,  Cicely  taking  the  seat  by  the  side  of  her 
grandfather.  Then  they  drove  off,  followed  by  the 
negro's  jeering  laughter. 

The  old  planter  remained  perfectly  silent.  Eve 
believed  that,  after  he  had  deposited  them  safely  at 
home,  he  would  go  back  in  search  of  that  negro 
without  fail.  She  and  Cicely  tried  to  keep  up  a  con 
versation  ;  Miss  Leontine  joined  them  whenever  she 
was  able,  but  the  tears  constantly  succeeded  each 
other  on  her  long  face,  and  she  was  as  constantly 
putting  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  in  order  to  re 
press  them,  the  gesture  much  involved  with  her  blue 
veil.  On  the  borders  of  the  village  they  passed  the 
little  railway  station.  By  the  side  of  the  station- 
house  there  was  a  new  shop,  which  had  a  broad 
show-window  filled  with  wooden  wash-tubs. 

"This  is  the  shop  of  Thomas  Scotts,  the  tar-and- 
turpentine  man  who  is  in  love  with  Matilda  Debbs," 
said  Cicely.  "  Plow  is  that  coming  on  now,  Miss 
Leontine  ?" 

Miss  Leontine  took  down  her  handkerchief.  "  The 
family  do  not  consent." 

"  But  there's  nothing  against  the  man,  is  there  ?" 

Miss  Leontine  took  down  the  handkerchief  again 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  65 

—  she  had  already  replaced  it.  "As  regards  his 
character,  n-nothing.  But  he  is  a  manufacturer  of 
tubs.  It  appears  that  it  is  the  business  of  the  fam 
ily  ;  his  father  also  manufactures  them.  In  Con 
necticut." 

"If  Thomas  Scotts  should  make  a  beautiful  new 
tub  for  each  of  the  Misses  Debbs,  it  wouldn't  be  a 
bad  idea  ;  there  are  twelve  or  fourteen  ot  tnem, 
aren't  there  ?" 

"  Ner-nine,"  replied  the  afflicted  maiden  lady,  with 
almost  a  convulsion  of  grief.  "  But  two  of  them 
are  yer-young  yet." 

"  And  seven  are  not.     Now  seven  new  tubs." 

"  Cecilia,  let  us  have  no  more  of  this,"  said  the 
judge. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken  ;  Cicely  put 
her  hand  behind  her  and  furtively  pinched  Eve's 
knee  in  token  of  triumph. 

They  came  into  the  main  street  of  Gary  Hundred. 
It  was  a  broad  avenue,  wandering  vaguely  onward 
amid  four  rows  of  trees  ;  there  was  no  pavement; 
the  roadway  was  deeply  covered  with  yellow  sand  ; 
the  spacious  sidewalks  which  bordered  it  were  equal 
ly  in  a  state  of  nature.  The  houses,  at  some  distance 
back  from  the  street,  were  surrounded  by  large  strag 
gling  gardens.  Farther  down  were  the  shops,  each 
with  its  row  of  hitching-posts  across  the  front. 

They  left  Miss  Leontine  at  her  own  door,  and  went 
on  towards  the  residence  of  Cousin  Sarah  Cray. 

"Here  comes  Miss  Polly's  bread -cart,  on  the 
way  back  from  Mellons,"  said  Cicely.  "  Grandpa, 
wouldn't  it  be  a  good  idea  to  buy  some  little  cakes  ?" 

The  judge  stopped  the  horse  ;  Cicely  beckoned  to 
the  old  negro  who  was  wheeling  the  covered  hand- 
5 


66  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

cart  along  the  sandy  road.  "Uncle  Dan,  have  you 
any  cakes  left  ?" 

Uncle  Dan  touched  his  hat,  and  opened  the  lid  of 
the  cart ;  there,  reposing  on  snowy  napkins,  were 
biscuit  and  bread,  and  little  cakes  of  inviting  aspect. 
AVhile  Cicely  made  her  selection,  Eve  bent  down  and 
took  one  of  the  circulars  which  were  lying,  neatly 
piled,  in  a  corner.  It  announced,  not  in  print,  but 
in  delicate  hand-writing,  that  at  the  private  bakery, 
number  ten  Queen  Street,  Gary  Hundred,  fresh  bread, 
biscuits,  and  rolls  could  be  obtained  daily  ;  muffins, 
crumpets,  and  plum-cake  to  order.  The  circular  was 
signed  "Mary  Clementina  Diana  Wingfield." 

"They  have  names  enough,  those  sisters,"  Eve 
commented.  "Miss  Leontine's  is  Clotilda  Leontine 
Elizabeth  ;  I  saw  it  in  her  prayer-book," 

Cousin  Sarah  Cray's  residence  was  a  large  white 
house,  with  verandas  encircling  it  both  up  stairs  and 
down  ;  the  palings  of  the  fence  were  half  gone,  the 
whole  place  looked  pillaged  and  open.  The  judge 
drove  up  to  the  door  and  helped  Cicely  to  descend  ; 
and  then  Eve,  who  had  little  Jack,  fast  asleep,  in  her 
arms.  Cicely  motioned  to  Eve  to  go  into  the  house  ; 
she  herself  followed  her  grandfather  as  he  led  the 
horse  round  to  the  stables.  Eve  went  in,  carrying 
Jack  and  the  cakes.  Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  hurrying 
down  the  stairs  to  meet  her,  took  the  child  affection 
ately.  "  Dear  little  fellow,  he  begins  to  look  right 
rosy."  She  was  delighted  with  the  cakes.  "  They 
will  help  out  the  tea  be-u-tifully  ;  we've  only  got 
waffles." 

Instead  of  going  to  her  room,  Eve  took  a  seat  at 
the  window  ;  she  was  anxious  about  the  judge. 

"  Miss  Polly's  cakes  are  always  so  light,"  pursued 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  67 

Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  looking  at  them  ;  "  she  never 
make's  a  mistake,  there's  never  the  tinetiest  streak  of 
heaviness  in  her  little  pounds  !  And  her  breads  are 
elegant,  too  ;  when  one  sees  her  beautiful  hands,  one 
wonders  how  she  can  do  all  the  kneading." 

"Does  she  do  it  herself?" 

"  Every  single  bit  ;  their  old  Susannah  only  heats 
the  oven.  It  was  a  courageous  idea,  Miss  Bruce, 
from  the  beginning  ;  you  know  they  are  among  our 
best  people,  and,  after  the  war,  they  found  them 
selves  left  with  nothing  in  the  world  but  their  house. 
They  could  have  kept  school  in  it,  of  course,  for  they 
are  accomplished  beyond  everything  ;  Miss  Leontine 
paints  sweetly — she  was  educated  in  France.  But 
there  was  no  one  to  come  to  the  school ;  the  girls, 
of  course,  could  not  afford  to  go  away." 

"You  mean  pupils?  —  to  leave  their  homes  and 
come  here  ?" 

"  No,  I  mean  the  girls,  Polly  and  Leontine  ;  they 
could  not  open  a  school  anywhere  else — in  Charles 
ton,  for  instance  ;  they  had  not  money  enough." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon — it  was  only  that  I  did  not 
recognize  them  as  '  the  girls.'  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  they  really  are  not  quite  girls 
any  longer,"  responded  Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  thought 
fully.  "Polly  is  forty-four  and  Leontine  fifty-two  ; 
but  I  reckon  they  will  always  be  '  the  girls '  to  us, 
even  if  they're  eighty,"  she  added,  laughing.  "  Well, 
Polly  had  this  idea.  And  she  has  been  so  success 
ful — you  can't  think  !  Her  bread-cart  goes  over  to 
Mellons  every  day  of  your  life,  as  regularly  as  the 
clock.  And  they  buy  a  great  deal." 

"  It's  the  camp,  isn't  it  ? — Camp  Mellons  ?" 

"  No  ;  it  has  always  been  Mellons,  Mellons  Post- 


68  JUTITER    LIGHTS. 

office.  The  camp  is  near  there,  and  it  has  some 
Yankee  name  or  other,  I  believe  ;  but  of  course  you 
know,  my  dear,  that  we  never  go  there." 

"  You  only  sell  them  bread.  I  am  glad,  at  least, 
that  they  buy  Miss  Polly's.  And  does  Miss  Leon- 
tine  help  ?" 

"  I  fancy  not.  Dear  Miss  Leontine  is  not  as  prac 
tical  as  Miss  Polly  ;  she  has  a  soft  poetical  nature, 
and  she  makes  beautiful  afghans.  But  the  judge 
prefers  Miss  Polly." 

"Does  he  really  admire  her?"  said  Eve,  with  a 
sudden  inspiration. 

"  Beyond  everything,"  answered  Cousin  Sarah 
Cray,  clasping  her  plump  hands. 

"  Then  will  you  please  go  out  and  tell  him  that  she 
is  coming  here  to  tea,  that  she  will  be  here  imme 
diately  ?" 

"  Mercy  !     But  she  won't," 

"  Yes,  she  will  ;  I  will  go  and  ask  her.  Do  please 
make  haste,  Mrs.  Cray  ;  we  are  so  afraid,  Cicely  and 
I,  that  he  will  try  to  whip  a  negro." 

"Mercy  !"  said  Cousin  Sarah  Cray  again,  this  time 
in  alarm  ;  stout  as  she  was,  she  ran  swiftly  through 
the  hall  and  across  the  veranda,  her  cap  strings  fly 
ing,  and  disappeared  on  the  way  to  the  stables. 

Eve  carried  little  Jack  up-stairs,  and  gave  him  to 
Deely,  the  house-maid  ;  then,  retracing  her  steps, 
she 'went  out  through  the  side-gate,  and  up  the  street 
to  the  home  of  the  Misses  Wingfield.  The  door 
stood  open,  Miss  Polly  was  in  the  hall.  She  was  a 
handsome  woman,  vigorous,  erect,  with  clear  blue 
eyes,  and  thick  sandy  hair  closely  braided  round  her 
well-shaped  head.  Eve  explained  her  errand.  "  But 
perhaps  Miss  Leontine  told  you  ?"  she  added. 


JUPITEB    LIGHTS.  69 

"  No,  Lonny  told  me  nothing  ;  she  went  straight 
to  her  room.  I  noticed  that  she  had  been  crying  ; 
but  she  is  so  sweet  that  she  cries  rather  easily.  Whip, 
indeed  !  Pd  rather  shoot." 

"  We  must  keep  the  judge  from  being  whipped," 
Eve  answered. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so  ;  he  is  an  old  man,  though  he 
doesn't  look  it.  I  will  go  with  you,  of  course.  Or 
rather  I  will  follow  you  in  a  few  moments." 

The  post-office  of  Gary  Hundred  was  opposite  the 
Wingfield  house  ;  as  Eve  crossed  the  broad  street 
on  her  way  back,  the  postmaster  appeared  at  his 
door,  and  beckoned  to  her  mysteriously.  He  was  a 
small  elderly  negro,  with  a  dignified  manner ;  he 
wore  blue  goggles  ;  Eve  knew  him  slightly,  she  had 
paid  several  visits  to  the  office,  and  had  been  treated 
with  deferential  attention.  When  she  reached  the 
sidewalk,  therefore,  she  paused. 

"  Would  yer  min'  droppin'  in  f er  one  brief  mo- 
men',  miss?  'Portant  marter." 

Eve  stepped  over  the  low  sill  of  the  small  build 
ing — it  was  hardly  more  than  a  shed,  though  smartly 
whitewashed,  and  adorned  with  bright  green  blinds 
— and  the  postmaster  immediately  closed  the  door. 
He  then  cautiously  took  from  his  desk  a  letter. 

"  Dere's  sump'n'  rudder  quare  'bout  dishyer  letter, 
miss,"  he  said,  glancing  towards  the  window  to  see 
that  no  one  was  looking  in.  "  Carn't  be  too  pertik- 
ler  w'en  it's  guv'ment  business  ;  en  so  we  'lowed  to 
ax  de  favior  ef  you'd  sorter  glimpse  yer  eye  ober  it 
fer  us." 

"  Read  a  letter  ?"  said  Eve.     "  Whose  letter  ?" 

"  Not  de  letter,  but  him  outside,  miss.  Whoms  is 
it?  Dat's  de  p'int.  En  I  wouldn't  have  you  s'pose 


* 

70  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

we  'ain't  guv  it  our  bes'  cornsideration.  We  knows 
de  looks  ob  raos'  ob  'em  w'at  comes  yere  ;  but  dish- 
yer  one's  diffunt.  Fuddermo',  de  stamp's  diffunt 
too." 

The  postmaster's  wife,  a  little  yellow  woman,  was 
looking  anxiously  at  them  from  the  small  window 
in  the  partition  of  the  real  post-office,  a  space  six 
feet  by  three. 

Eve  took  the  letter.  "  It's  an  English  stamp.  And 
the  name  is  plainly  written,  '  Henry  Barker,  Esquire  ; 
Gary  Hundred.' " 

"  No  sech  pusson  yero.  Dat's  w'at  I  tol'  Mister 
Cotesworth,"  said  the  yellow  woman,  triumphantly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  cannot  read  ?" 
said  Eve,  surveying  "  Mister  Cotesworth,"  with  as 
tonishment. 

The  government  official  had,  for  the  moment,  an 
abashed  look.  "  We  'lowed,"  he  began,  "  dat  as 
you's  f  um  de  Norf — " 

But  his  wife  interrupted  him.  "  lie  reads  better'n 
mos',  miss,  Mister  Cotesworth  does.  But  his  eyes 
done  got  so  bad  lately — dat's  w'at.  Take  de  letter, 
Mister  Cotesworth,  and  doan'  trouble  dc  lady  no 
mo'.  Fine  wedder,  miss."  She  came  round  and 
opened  the  door  officiously ;  "  seem  lak  we  'ain't 
nebber  see  finer." 

Miss  Polly  arrived  at  Cousin  Sarah  Cray's  ;  sho 
walked  with  apparent  carelessness  round  towards  the 
stables,  where  the  judge  was  superintending  the 
rubbing  down  and  the  feeding  of  the  horse.  A  sad 
dle  had  been  brought  out,  and  was  hanging  on  the 
fence  ;  Cousin  Sarah  hovered  anxiously  near. 

"  Grandpa  is  going  out  for  a  ride,"  explained 
Cicely.  "  But  I  told  him  that  the  poor  horse  must 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  71 

be  fed  first,  in  common  charity ;  he  has  been  so  far 
already — to  Wellington  and  back." 

"  Oh,  but  the  judge  is  not  going,  now  that  I  have 
come,"  said  Miss  Polly  ;  "  he  wouldn't  be  so  uncivil." 
She  went  up  to  hirn  ;  smiling  winning! y,  she  put  out 
her  beautiful  hand. 

The  judge  was  always  gallant;  he  took  the  fair 
hand,  and,  bending  his  head,  deposited  upon  it  a 
salute. 

Miss  Polly  smiled  still  more  graciously.  "And  is 
a  stable-yard  a  place  for  such  courtesies,  judge?" 
she  said,  in  her  rich  voice,  with  her  luscious,  indo 
lent,  Southern  pronunciation.  "  Oh,  surely  not — sure 
ly  not.  Let  us  go  to  Cousin  Sarah  Cray's  parlor  ; 
I  have  something  to  tell  you  ;  in  fact,  I  came  espe 
cially  to  see  you."  Looking  very  handsome  and 
very  straight,  she  took  his  arm  with  a  caressing 
touch. 

The  judge  admired  Miss  Polly  deeply. 

And  Miss  Polly  kept  a  firm  hold  upon  his  arm. 

The  judge  yielded. 


VII. 

"SEA -BEACHES,"  said  Eve, — "the  minds  of  such 
people;  you  can  trace  the  line  of  their  last  high  tide, 
that  is,  the  year  when  they  stopped  reading.  Along 
the  judge's  line,  one  finds,  for  instance,  Rogers;  he 
really  has  no  idea  that  there  have  been  any  new 
poets  since  then." 

"  Dear  me !  We  have  always  thought  Horatio 
remarkably  literary,"  protested  Cousin  Sarah  Cray. 
"  That's  his  step  now,  I  think." 


72  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

The  judge  came  in,  little  Jack  on  bis  shoulder. 
"I  believe  he  has  dropped  some — some  portions  of 
his  clothing  on  the  stairs,"  he  said,  helplessly.  "  It's 
astonishing — the  facility  he  has." 

"  And  he  has  pulled  off  his  shoes,"  added  Eve,  tak 
ing  the  little  reprobate  and  kissing  him.  "  Naughty 
Jack.  Tacks !" 

" Esss,  tacks!"  repeated  Jack,  in  high  glee.  "  Dey 
gets  in  Jack's  foots."  That  was  all  he  cared  for  her 
warning  legend. 

The  judge  sat  down  and  wiped  his  forehead. 
"I  have  received  a  shock,"  he  said. 

"  Pity's  sake  ! — what  ?"  asked  Cousin  Sarah  Cray, 
in  alarm.  Poor  Cousin  Sarah  dealt  in  interjections. 
But  it  might  be  added  that  she  had  lived  through 
times  that  were  exclamatory- 

"  Our  old  friend,  Roland  Pettigru,  is  dead,  Sarah ; 
the  news  comes  to  us  in  this — this  Sheet,  which,  I 
am  told,  is  published  here."  lie  drew  a  small  news 
paper  from  his  pocket.  "  With  your  permission, 
ladies,  I  will  read  to  you  the  opening  sentence  of  an 
obituary  notice  which  this  —  this  Sheet  —  has  pre 
pared  for  the  occasion."  He  put  on  his  spectacles, 
and,  holding  the  paper  off  at  a  distance,  read  aloud, 
with  slow,  indignant  enunciation,  as  follows:  "  '  The 
Great  Reaper  has  descended  amongst  us.  And  this 
time  he  has  carried  back  with  him  sadly  brilliant 
sheaves;  for  his  arrows  have  been  shot  at  a  shining 
mark'  (arrows  for  a  reaper!"  commented  the  judge, 
surveying  his  audience  squintingly,  over  his  glasses), 
"  '  and  the  aim  has  been  only  too  true.  Gaunt  Sor 
row  stalks  abroad,  we  mourn  Avith  Pettigru  Hill  ; 
we  say — and  we  repeat — that  the  death  of  Roland 
Pettigru  has  left  a  vortex  among  us.'  Yes,  vortex, 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  73 

ladies; — the  death  of  a  quiet,  cultivated  gentleman 
a  vortex  !" 

At  this  moment  Deely,  the  house-maid,  appeared 
at  the  door ;  giving  her  calico  skirt  a  twist  by  way 
of  "manners,"  she  announced,  " Miss  Wungfy." 

Miss  Leontine  entered,  carrying  five  books  stand 
ing  in  a  row  upon  her  left  arm  as  though  it  had  been 
a  shelf.  She  shook  hands  with  Cousin  Sarah  Cray 
and  Eve  ;  then  she  went  through  the  same  ceremony 
with  the  judge,  but  in  a  confused,  downcast  manner, 
and  seated  herself  on  a  slippery  ottoman  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  door. 

"  I  hope  you  liked  the  books  ?  Pray  let  me  take 
them,"  said  Eve,  for  Miss  Leontine  was  still  balanc 
ing  them  against  her  breast. 

"  Literature  ?"  remarked  the  judge,  who  also 
seemed  embarrassed.  He  took  up  one  of  the  vol 
umes  and  opened  it.  "Ah,  a  novel." 

"  Yes,  but  one  that  will  not  hurt  you,"  Eve  an 
swered.  "  For  Miss  Leontine  prefers  those  novels 
where  the  hero  and  heroine  are  married  to  begin  with, 
and  then  fall  in  love  with  each  other  afterwards;  ev 
erything  on  earth  may  happen  to  them  during  this 
process — poisonings  and  murders  and  shootings;  she 
does  not  mind  these  in  the  least,  for  it's  sure  in  any 
case  to  be  moral,  don't  you  see,  because  they  were 
married  in  the  beginning.  And  marriage  makes 
everything  perfectly  safe ;  doesn't  it,  Miss  Leon- 
tine  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  answered  Miss  Leon- 
tine,  still  a  prey  to  nervousness;  "but — but  I  have 
always  supposed  so.  Yes.  We  read  them  aloud," 
she  added,  turning  for  relief  to  Cousin  Sarah  Cray; 
"that  is,  I  read  to  Polly — in  the  evenings." 


74  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  These  modern  novels  seem  to  me  poor  produc 
tions,"  commented  the  judge,  turning  over  the  pages 
of  the  volume  he  had  taken. 

"Naturally,"  responded  Eve. 

"  May  I  ask  why  '  naturally  '  ?" 

"  Oh,  men  who  read  their  Montaigne  year  after 
year  without  change,  and  who  quote  Charles  Lamb, 
never  care  for  novels,  unless,  indeed,  it  may  l>e  '  Tom 
Jones.'  Montaigne  and  Lamb,  Latin  quotations  that 
are  not  hard,  a  glass  of  good  wine  with  his  dinner, 
and  a  convexity  of  person — these  mark  your  non- 
appreciator  of  novels,  from  Warwickshire  to  Gary 
Hundred." 

"Upon  my  word,  young  lady — "  began  the  judge, 
laughing. 

But  Miss  Leontine,  by  her  rising,  interrupted  him. 
"I  think  I  must  go  now.  Yes.  Thank  you." 

"  But  you  have  only  just  come,"  said  Cousin  Sarah 
Cray. 

"I  stopped  to  leave  the  books.  Yes;  really;  that 
was  all.  Thanks,  you  are  very  kind.  Yes;  thank 
you."  She  fumbled  ineffectually  for  the  handle  of 
the  door,  and,  when  it  was  opened  for  her,  with  an 
embarrassed  bow  she  passed  out,  her  long  back  bent 
forward,  her  step  hurried. 

"I  can't  imagine  what  is  the  matter  with  her," 
said  Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  returning. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Sarah,  that  I  can  inform  you,"  an 
swered  the  judge  gravely,  putting  down  the  volume. 
"  I  met  her  in  her  own  garden  about  an  hour  ago, 
and  we  fell  into  conversation  ;  I  don't  know  what 
possessed  me,  but  in  relating  some  anecdote  of  a 
jocular  nature  which  happened  to  be  in  my  mind  at 
the  time,  by  way  of  finish — I  can't  imagine  what  I 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  75 

was  thinking  of — but  I  up  and  chucked  her  under 
the  chin." 

"  Chucked  Miss  Leontine !"  exclaimed  Cousin 
Sarah  Cray,  aghast,  while  Eve  gave  way  to  irre 
pressible  mirth.  "  Was  she  —  was  she  deeply  of 
fended  ?" 

"  She  was  simply  paralyzed  with  astonishment.  I 
venture  to  say" — here  the  judge  sent  an  eye-beam 
towards  the  laughing  Eve — "  I  venture  to  say  that 
Miss  Leontine  has  never  been  chucked  under  the 
chin  in  all  her  life  before." 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Cousin  Sarah  Cray  ; 
"she  is  far  too  dignified."  Then,  with  a  desire  to 
be  strictly  truthful,  she  added,  "Perhaps  when  she 
was  a  baby  ?" 

But  even  this  seemed  doubtful. 

Not  long  after  this  the  Misses  Wingfield  (it  was 
really  Miss  Polly)  gave  a  party. 

"Must  we  go ?"  said  Eve. 

"  Why,  it  will  be  perfectly  delightful !"  answered 
Cousin  Sarah  Cray,  looking  at  her  in  astonishment. 
"  Every  one  will  be  there.  Let  me  see  :  there  will 
be  ourselves,  four  ;  and  Miss  Polly  and  Miss  Leon- 
tine,  six;  then  the  Debbses,  thirteen  —  fourteen  if 
Mrs.  Debbs  comes  ;  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bushey  and  his 
wife,  sixteen.  And  perhaps  there  will  be  some  one 
else,"  she  added,  hopefully  ;  "  perhaps  somebody  has 
some  one  staying  with  them." 

"  Thomas  Scotts,  the  tub  man,  will  not  be  invited," 
remarked  Cicely.  "  He  will  walk  by  on  the  outside. 
And  look  in." 

"  There's  nothing  I  admire  more  than  the  way  you 
pronounce  that  name  Debbs,"  observed  Eve.  "  It's 
plain  Debbs  ;  yet  you  call  it  Dessss — holding  on  to 


76  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

all  the  s's,  and  hardly  sounding  the  b  at  all — so  that 
you  almost  make  it  rhyme  with  noblesse." 

"  That's  because  we  like  'em,  I  reckon,"  responded 
Cousin  Sarah  Cray.  "  They  certainly  are  the  sweet 
est  family  !" 

"  There's  a  faint  trace  of  an  original  theme  in 
Matilda.  The  others  are  all  variations,"  said  the 
caustic  Miss  Bruce. 

They  went  to  the  party. 

"  Theme  and  variations  all  here,"  said  Cicely,  as 
they  passed  the  open  door  of  the  parlor  on  their  way 
up-stairs  to  lay  aside  their  wraps  ;  "  they  haven't 
spared  us  a  trill." 

"  Well,  you  won't  be  spared  either,"  said  Cousin 
Sarah  Cray.  "  You'll  have  to  sing." 

She  proved  a  true  prophet  ;  Cicely  was  called 
upon  to  add  what  she  could  to  the  entertainments 
of  the  evening.  Her  voice  was  slender  and  clear  ; 
to-night  it  pleased  her  to  sing  straight  on,  so  rapidly 
that  she  made  mince-meat  of  the  words  of  her  song, 
the  delicate  little  notes  almost  seeming  to  come  from 
a  flute,  or  from  a  mechanical  music-bird  screwed  to 
a  chandelier.  Later,  however,  Miss  Matilda  Debbs 
supplied  the  missing  expression  when  she  gave  them  : 

"  Slee — ping,  I  dreamed,  love, 

Dreamed,  love,  of  thee ; 
O'er — ther — bright  waves,  love, 
Float — ing  were  we." 

Cicely  seemed  possessed  by  one  of  her  wild  moods. 
"I've  been  to  the  window  ;  the  tar-and-turpentine 
man  is  looking  over  the  gate,"  she  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  to  Eve.  "  I'm  going  out  to  say  to  him, 
'Scotts,  wha  hae  !  Send  in  a  tub/" 

Presently  she  came  by  Eve's  chair  again.     "  Have 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  77 

you  seen  the  geranium  in  Miss  Leontine's  hair? 
Let  us  get  grandpa  out  on  the  veranda  with  her, 
alone  ;  she  has  been  madly  in  love  with  him  ever 
since  he  chucked  her  under  the  chin.  What's  more, 
grandpa  knows  it,  too,  and  he's  awfully  frightened  ; 
he  always  goes  through  the  back  streets  now,  like  a 
thief." 

There  was  a  peal  at  the  door-bell.  "  Tar-and-tur- 
pentine  man  coming  in,"  murmured  Cicely. 

Susannah  appeared  with  a  letter.  "  Fer  Mis'  Mor 
rison,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  general  laugh.  For  "Mister  Cotes- 
worth,"  not  sure  that  Eve  would  keep  his  secret,  and 
alarmed  for  the  safety  of  his  official  position,  had 
taken  to  delivering  his  letters  in  person  ;  clad  in  his 
best  black  coat,  with  a  silk  hat,  the  blue  goggles, 
and  a  tasselled  cane,  he  not  only  delivered  them 
with  his  owrn  hands,  but  he  declaimed  the  addresses 
in  a  loud  tone  at  the  door.  Xot  finding  Cicely  at 
home,  he  had  followed  her  hither.  "  Fer  Mis'  Fei1'- 
nen  Morrison.  Kferwerded  letter,"  he  said  to  Susan 
nah  in  the  hall,  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

The  judge  had  gone  to  the  dining-room  with  Miss 
Polly,  to  see  her  little  dog,  which  was  ailing.  Cicely 
put  the  letter  in  her  pocket. 

After  a  while  she  said  to  Eve,  "I  never  have  any 
letters,  hardly." 

"  But  you  must  have,"  Eve  answered. 

"No;  almost  never.  I  am  going  up-stairs  for  a 
moment,  Eve.  Don't  come  with  me." 

When  she  returned,  more  music  was  going  on. 
As  soon  as  she  could,  Eve  said,  inquiringly,  "  Well  ?" 

"  It  was  from  Ferdie." 

"  Is  he  coming  back  ?" 


78  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"Yes,"  responded  Cicely,  unmoved. 

Eve's  thoughts  had  flown  to  her  own  plans.  But 
she  found  time  to  think,  "  What  a  cold  little  creature 
it  is,  after  all !" 

At  that  moment  they  could  say  no  more. 

About  midnight,  when  Eve  was  in  her  own  room, 
undressing,  there  was  a  tap  at  the  door,  and  Cicely 
entered.  She  had  taken  off  her  dress  ;  a  forlorn  lit 
tle  blue  shawl  was  drawn  tightly  round  her  shoul 
ders. 

She  walked  to  the  dressing-table,  where  Eve  was 
sitting,  took  up  a  brush,  and  looked  at  it  vaguely. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  any  one  ;  but  I  have  changed 
my  mind,  I  am  going  to  tell  you."  Putting  down 
the  brush,  she  let  the  shawl  fall  back.  There  across 
her  white  breast  was  a  long  purple  scar,  and  a  sec 
ond  one  over  her  delicate  little  shoulder.  "  He  did 
it,"  she  said.  Her  eyes,  fixed  upon  Eve's,  were  proud 
and  brilliant. 

"  You  don't  mean — you  don't  mean  that  your  hus 
band — "  stammered  Eve,  in  horror. 

«  Yes,  Ferdie.     He  did  it." 

"  Is  he  mad  ?" 

"  Only  after  he  has  been  drinking." 

"Oh,  you  poor  little  thing  !"  said  Eve,  taking  her 
in  her  arms  protectingly.  "  I  have  been  so  hard  to 
you,  Cicely,  so  cruel  !  But  I  did  not  know7 — I  did 
not  know."  Her  tears  flowed, 

"  I  am  telling  you  on  account  of  baby,"  Cicely 
went  on,  in  the  same  unmoved  tone. 

"  Has  he  dared  to  touch  baby  ?"  said  Eve,  spring 
ing  up. 

"Yes,  Eve;  he  broke  poor  baby's  little  arm;  of 
course  when  he  did  not  know  what  he  was  doing. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  79 

When  he  gets  that  way  he  does  not  know  us;  he 
thinks  we  are  enemies,  and  he  thinks  it  is  his  duty 
to  attack  us.  Once  he  put  ns  out-of-doors — baby 
and  me — in  the  middle  of  the  night,  with  only  our 
night-dresses  on;  fortunately  it  wasn't  very  cold. 
That  time,  and  the  time  he  broke  baby's  arm  (he 
seized  him  by  the  arm  and  flung  him  out  of  his 
crib),  we  were  not  in  Savannah;  we  were  off  by 
ourselves  for  a  month,  we  three.  Baby  was  so 
young  that  the  bone  was  easily  set.  Nobody  ever 
knew  about  it,  I  never  told.  But — but  it  must  not 
happen  again."  She  looked  at  Eve  with  the  same 
unmoved  gaze. 

"  I  should  rather  think  not  !  Give  him  to  me, 
Cicely,  and  let  me  take  him  away — -at  least  for  the 
present.  You  know  you  said — 

"  I  said  'perhaps.'  But  I  cannot  let  him  go  now 
— not  just  now.  I  am  telling  you  what  has  hap 
pened  because  you  really  seem  to  care  for  him." 

"  I  think  I  have  showed  that  I  care  for  him  !" 

"  Well,  I  have  let  you." 

"  What  are  we  to  do,  then,  if  you  won't  let  me 
take  him  away  ?"  said  Eve,  in  despair.  "  Will  that 
man  come  here  ?" 

"  He  may.  He  will  go  to  Savannah,  and  if  he 
learns  there  that  I  am  here,  he  may  follow  me.  But 
he  will  never  go  to  Romney,  he  doesn't  like  Rom- 
ney;  even  in  the  beginning,  when  I  begged  him  to 
go,  he  never  would.  He —  She  paused. 

"  Jealous,  I  suppose,"  suggested  the  sister,  with  a 
bitter  laugh — "  jealous  of  Jack's  poor  bones  in  the 
burying-ground.  Your  two  ghosts  will  have  a  duel, 
Cicely." 

"  Oli,  Ftrdie  isn't  dead  !"  said  Cicely,  with  sud- 


80  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

den  terror.  She  grasped  Eve's  arm.  "  Have  you 
heard  anything?  Tell  me — tell  me." 

Eve  looked  at  her. 

"  Yes,  I  love  him,"  said  Cicely,  answering  the 
look.  "  I  have  loved  him  ever  since  the  first  hour  I 
saw  him.  It's  more  than  love;  it's  adoration." 

"  You  never  said  that  of  Jack." 

"  No;  for  it  wouldn't  have  been  true." 

The  two  women  faced  each  other — the  tall  Eve, 
the  dark  little  wife. 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  get  away  from  this  hideous 
country  —  this  whole  horrible  South  !"  said  Eve, 
walking  up  and  down  the  room  like  a  caged  tigress. 

"  You  would  like  him  if  you  knew  him,"  Cicely 
went  on,  gently.  "It  seldom  happens — that  other; 
and  when  it  doesn't  happen,  Eve — 

Eve  put  out  her  hand  with  a  repelling  gesture. 
"  Let  me  take  baby  and  go." 

"  Not  now.     But  he  will  be  safe  at  Romney." 

"  In  Heaven's  name,  then,  let  us  get  him  back  to 
Romney." 

"  Yes;  to-morrow." 

Little  Jack  was  asleep  in  his  crib  by  the  side  of 
Eve's  bed,  for  she  still  kept  him  with  her  at  night. 
Cicely  went  to  the  crib  and  looked  at  her  child;  Eve 
followed  her. 

The  little  boy's  night-dress  had  fallen  open,  re 
vealing  one  shoulder  and  arm.  "  It  was  just  here," 
whispered  Cicely,  kneeling  down  and  softly  touch 
ing  the  baby-flesh.  She  looked  up  at  Eve,  her  eyes 
thick  with  tears. 

"  Why,  you  care  ?"  said  Eve.  "  Care  for  him  ?— 
the  baby,  I  mean."  She  spoke  her  thoughts  aloud, 
unwittingly. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  81 

"  Did  you  think  I  didn't  care  ?"  asked  Cicely,  with, 
a  smile. 

It  was  the  strangest  smile  Eve  had  ever  seen. 


VIII. 

EARLY  spring  at  Romney.  The  yellow  jessamine 
was  nearly  gone,  the  other  flowers  were  coming  out; 
Atamasco  lilies  shone  whitely  everywhere;  the  long 
line  of  the  islands  and  the  opposite  mainland  were 
white  with  blossoms,  the  salt-marshes  were  freshly 
green;  shoals,  which  had  wallowed  under  water 
since  Christmas,  lifted  their  heads;  the  great  river 
came  back  within  its  banks  again. 

Three  weeks  had  passed  since  their  return  to  the 
island.  They  had  made  the  journey  without  the 
judge,  who  had  remained  in  South  Carolina  to  give 
his  aid  to  the  widow  of  his  old  friend,  Roland  Pet- 
tigru,  who  had  become  involved  in  a  lawsuit.  The 
three  weeks  had  been  slow  and  anxious — anxious, 
that  is,  to  Eve.  Cicely  had  returned  to  her  mute 
ness.  Once,  at  the  beginning,  when  Eve  had  pressed 
her  with  questions,  she  said,  as  general  answer,  "  In 
.any  case,  Ferdie  will  not  come  here."  After  that, 
when  again — once  or  twice — Eve  had  asked,  "  Have 
you  heard  anything  more  ?"  Cicely  had  returned  no 
reply  whatever;  she  had  let  her  passive  glance  rest 
upon  Eve  and  then  glide  to  something  else,  as  though 
she  had  not  spoken.  Eve  was  proud,  she  too  re 
mained  silent.  She  knew  that  she  had  done  nothing 
to  win  Cicely's  confidence;  women  understand  wom 
en,  and  Cicely  had  perceived  from  the  first,  oJ 
course,  that  Jack's  sister  did  not  like  her. 
0 


82  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

But  since  that  midnight  revelation  at  Cousin  Sarah 
Cray's,  Eve  no  longer  disliked  Cicely;  on  the  con 
trary,  she  was  attracted  towards  her  by  a  sort  of  un- 
Avilling  surprise.  Often,  when  they  were  with  the 
others,  she  would  look  at  her  twenty  times  in  a  half- 
hour,  endeavoring  to  fathom  something  of  the  real 
nature  of  this  little  girl  (to  Eve,  Cicely  always 
seemed  a  school-girl),  who  had  borne  a  tragedy  in 
silence,  covering  it  with  her  jests,  covering  it  also 
with  her  coldness.  But  was  Cicely  really  cold  to  all 
the  world  but  Ferdie  ?  She  was  not  so,  at  least,  as 
regarded  her  child;  no  one  who  had  seen  her  on  her 
knees  that  night  beside  the  crib  could  doubt  her 
love  for  him.  Yet  she  let  Eve  have  him  for  hours 
at  a  time,  she  let  her  have  him  at  night,  without  even 
Dilsey  to  look  after  him;  she  never  interfered,  con 
stantly  as  Eve  claimed  him  and  kept  him.  In  spite 
of  her  confidence  in  her  own  perceptions,  in  spite  of 
her  confidence,  too,  in  her  own  will,  which  she  be 
lieved  could  force  a  solution  in  almost  every  case, 
Eve  Bruce  was  obliged  to  acknowledge  to  herself 
that  she  was  puzzled. 

Now  and  then  she  would  be  harassed  by  the 
question  as  to  whether  she  ought  not  to  tell  Miss 
Sabrina  what  she  knew,  whether  she  ought  not  to 
tell  the  judge.  But  Cicely  had  spared  them,  and 
Cicely  had  asked  her  to  be  equally  merciful.  At 
night,  when  lying  awake,  the  horror  of  the  poor 
baby's  broken  arm  would  sometimes  come  to  her  so 
vividly  that  she  would  light  the  candle  in  haste  to 
see  if  he  were  safe.  If  Ferdie  should  come  here, 
after  all !  Cicely  had  said  that  he  would  not;  but 
who  could  trust  Cicely, — loving  the  man  as  she  did? 
To  Eve,  after  all  that  had  happened,  Cicely's  love 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  83 

seemed  a  mania  as  insane  as  the  homicidal  deliriums 
of  the  husband. 

As  to  these  deliriums,  she  tried  to  picture  what 
they  must  be:  the  baby  hurled  from  his  little  crib — 
that  made  her  shudder  with  rage;  she  should  not  be 
afraid  of  the  madman,  then;  she  should  attack  him 
in  return !  Sometimes  it  was  Cicely  whom  she  saw, 
Cicely,  shrinking  under  blows;  it  must  have  been 
something  heavy  and  sharp,  a  billet  of  wood,  per 
haps,  that  had  caused  the  scars  across  her  white 
breast.  She  remembered  that  once,  when  inwardly 
exasperated  by  Cicely's  fresh  fairness,  she  had  ac 
cused  her  of  never  having  known  what  it  was  to  be 
really  tired  in  all  her  life.  Cicely  had  answered, 
rather  hesitatingly,  "I  don't  know  that  I  have  ever 
been  tired,  exactly."  She  had  not  been  tired — no. 
She  had  only  been  half  killed. 

The  poor  little  girl's  muteness,  her  occasional  out 
bursts  of  wild  sport,  her  jests  and  laughter,  her  ab 
stractions,  and  the  coldness  sometimes  seen  in  her 
beautiful  eyes,  were  these  the  results  of  suffering? 
She  questioned  Miss  Sabrina  a  little. 

"  She  has  always  been  the  same,  except  that  since 
her  second  marriage  she  is  much  more  quiet,"  replied 
the  unconscious  aunt.  "  Until  then  she  was  like 
quicksilver,  she  used  to  run  through  the  thickets  so 
swiftly  that  no  one  could  follow  her,  and  she  used 
to  play  ball  by  the  hour  with —  Here  the  speaker 
paused,  disconcerted. 

"With  Jack,"  Eve  added,  her  face  contracting 
with  the  old  pain. 

Miss  Sabrina  had  at  last  perceived  this  pain,  and 
the  discovery  had  stopped  her  affectionate  allusions. 
But  she  did  not  forget — Eve  often  found  her  care- 


84  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

fully  made  wreaths  laid  upon  Jack's  grave.  As  for 
Eve  herself,  she  never  brought  a  flower  ;  she  walked 
to  and  fro  beside  the  mound,  and  the  sojourn  gen 
erally  ended  in  angry  thoughts.  Why  should  other 
people  keep  their  loved  ones,  and  she  be  bereft? 
What  had  she  done,  what  had  Jack  done,  that  was  so 
wrong  ?  God  was  not  good,  because  He  was  not  kind ; 
people  did  not  ask  Him  to  create  them,  but  when  once 
He  had  done  it  for  His  own  pleasure,  and  there  they 
were,  helpless,  in  His  world,  why  should  He  torture 
them  so?  To  make  them  better?  Why  didn't  He 
make  them  better  in  the  beginning,  when  He  was 
creating  them  ?  Or  else  not  make  them  at  all  ! 

One  afternoon  during  the  fourth  week  after  their 
return  to  Romney,  she  was  on  her  way  back  with 
Miss  Sabrina  from  Singleton  Island  ;  the  two  had 
been  dining  there,  the  Southern  three-o'clock  dinner, 
and  now  at  sunset  the  row-boat  was  bringing  them 
home.  To  Eve  the  visit  had  been  like  a  day's  truce, 
a  short  period,  when  one  merely  waits  ;  the  after 
noon  was  beautiful,  the  Sound  like  a  mirror  ;  the 
home-island,  when  they  left  it,  had  been  peacefully 
lovely,  the  baby  from  his  wagon  kissing  his  hand  to 
them,  and  Dilsey  squatting  on  the  bank  by  his  side, 
a  broad  grin  of  contentment  on  her  dusky  face. 
Cicely  had  declined  the  invitation,  sending  a  jocular 
message  to  "  little  Rupert,"  which  inspired  him  with 
laughter  all  day. 

The  dinner  had  been  excellent  as  regards  the  suc 
culence  of  its  South  Carolina  dishes.  The  damask 
tablecloth  was  thin  from  age,  the  dinner-service  a 
mixture  of  old  Canton  blue  and  the  commonest, 
thickest  white  plates  ;  coarse  dull  goblets  stood  be 
side  cut-glass  wine-glasses  ;  the  knives  were  in  the 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  85 

last  stage  of  decrepitude,  and  there  was  no  silver  at 
all,  not  even  a  salt-spoon  ;  it  had  been  replaced  by 
cheaply  plated  spoons  and  forks,  from  which  the 
plate  was  already  half  gone.  Blanche,  the  old  negro 
woman,  waited,  assisted  by  the  long-legged  Lucasta, 
and  by  little  Bolivcr,  who  was  attired  for  the  occa 
sion  in  a  pair  of  trousers  which  extended  from  his 
knees  to  his  shoulders,  over  which  they  were  tightly 
strapped  by  means  of  strings.  Boliver's  part  was  to 
bring  the  hot  dishes  from  the  outside  kitchen,  which 
was  in  a  cabin  at  some  distance — a  task  which  he 
performed  with  dignity,  varied,  however,  by  an  oc 
casional  somerset  on  the  veranda,  when  he  thought 
no  one  was  looking.  Rupert  was  genial,  very  gallant 
to  the  ladies  ;  he  carried  his  gallantry  so  far  that  he 
even  drank  their  health  several  times,  the  only  Avine 
being  the  mainland  Madeira.  Mrs.  Singleton  was 
hospitable  and  affectionate,  remaining  unconscious 
(in  manner)  as  to  the  many  deficiencies.  And  Eve 
looked  on  admiringly,  as  though  it  had  been  a  beau 
tiful,  half-pathetic  little  play  ;  for  to  her  it  was  all 
pictorial — these  ruined  old  houses  on  their  blooming 
desolate  islands,  with  the  ancient  hospitality  still  ani 
mating  them  in  spite  of  all  that  had  passed.  The 
short  voyage  over,  the  row-boat  stopped  at  Romney 
landing.  There  was  no  one  waiting  for  them  ; 
Abram  assisted  Miss  Sabrina,  and  then  Eve,  to  step 
from  one  of  the  boat's  seats  to  the  dock.  Eve  lin 
gered  for  a  moment,  looking  at  the  sunset  ;  then  she 
too  turned  towards  the  house.  The  path  winding 
under  the  trees  was  already  dusky,  Miss  Sabrina  was 
a  dozen  yards  in  advance  ;  as  she  approached  a  bend, 
Eve  saw  some  one  come  round  it  and  meet  her.  It 
was  a  figure  too  tall  to  be  the  judge  ;  it  was  a  young 


86  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

man  ;  it  was  a  person  she  had  not  seen  ;  she  made 
these  successive  discoveries  as  she  drew  nearer.  She 
decided  that  it  was  a  neighbor  from  one  of  the 
southern  islands,  who  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
lovely  afternoon  for  a  sail. 

When  she  came  up  she  found  Miss  Sabrina  half 
laughing,  half  crying  ;  she  had  given  the  stranger 
both  her  hands.  "  Oh,  Eve,  it  is  Ferdinand.  And  I 
did  not  know  him  !" 

"  How  could  you  expect  to  know  me,  when  you 
have  never  seen  me  in  your  life  ?"  asked  the  young 
man,  laughing. 

"But  we  have  your  picture.  I  ought  to  have 
known — " 

"  My  dear  aunt,  never  accuse  yourself  ;  your  dear 
est  friends  will  always  do  that  for  you.  I  dare  say 
my  picture  doesn't  half  do  me  justice." 

He  spoke  jestingly  ;  but  there  was  still  twilight 
enough  to  show  Eve  that  what  he  had  said  was  sim 
ply  the  truth.  The  photograph  was  handsome,  but 
the  real  face  was  handsomer,  the  features  beautiful, 
the  eyes  blue  and  piercing. 

"  This  is  Cicely's  sister  Eve,"  said  Miss  Sabrina. 
"  She  has  come  out — so  kindly — from  England  to  pay 
us  a  visit." 

Ferdinand  put  out  his  hand  with  a  bright  smile. 
He  had  a  smile  which  would  have  been  a  fitting  one 
for  a  typical  figure  of  youthful  Hope. 

Eve  could  not  refuse,  conspicuously,  to  give  him 
her  hand  in  return.  It  all  seemed  to  her  a  dream — 
his  sudden  appearance  in  the  dusky  path,  and  his 
striking  beauty.  She  did  not  speak.  But  her  mute 
ness  passed  unnoticed,  because  for  once  in  her  life 
Miss  Sabrina  was  voluble,  her  words  tumbled  over 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  8*7 

one  another.  "Such  a  surprise!  So  nice!  so  de 
lightful  !  Plow  little  we  thought  this  morning, 
when  we  rose  as  usual,  and  everything  was  the  same 
— how  little  we  thought  that  it  would  be  such  a 
sweet,  such  a  happy  day !" 

Ferdinand  laughed  again,  throwing  back  his  hand 
some  head  a  little—  a  movement  that  was  habitual 
with  him.  He  gave  Miss  Sabrina  his  arm,  drew  her 
hand  through  it  and  held  it  in  his  own,  as  they 
moved  onward  towards  the  house.  On  the  veranda, 
Cicely  was  waiting  for  them,  her  cheeks  flushed  with 
pink.  Eve  expected  a  defiant  look,  a  glance  that 
would  dare  her  to  express  either  her  surprise  or  her 
fear ;  instead  of  that,  Cicely's  eyes,  meeting  hers, 
were  full  of  trust  and  sweetness,  as  if  she  believed 
that  Eve  would  sympathize  with  her  joy,  as  if  she 
had  entirely  forgotten  that  there  was  any  reason 
why  Eve  should  not  share  it.  Miss  Sabrina  sympa 
thized,  if  Eve  did  not  ;  she  kissed  Cicely  with  a 
motherly  tenderness,  and  then,  as  she  raised  her 
wet  eyes  again  towards  Ferdinand,  she  looked  so 
extraordinarily  pleased  that  the  young  man  bent  and 
kissed  her  faded  cheek.  "  There,  auntie,"  he  said, 
"now  we've  made  acquaintance;  you  must  take  me 
in  as  a  genuine  nephew.  And  improve  me." 

"  Oh,  improve,"  murmured  Miss  Sabrina,  gazing 
at  him  near-sightedly.  She  put  on  her  glasses  (with 
out  turning  her  back)  in  order  to  see  him  more 
clearly.  It  marked  a  great  emotion  on  her  part — 
the  not  turning  her  back. 

Eve  went  to  her  room  ;  she  thought  that  Cicely 
would  follow  her.  But  no  one  came  until  Powlyne 
knocked  to  say  that  tea  was  ready.  At  first  Eve 
thought  that  she  would  not  go  to  the  dining-room, 


88  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

that  she  would  send  an  excuse.  The  next  moment 
she  felt  driven  not  only  to  go,  but  to  hasten  ;  to  be 
always  present  in  order  to  see  everything  and  hear 
everything;  this  would  be  her  office  ;  she  must  watch 
for  the  incipient  stages  of  what  she  dreaded.  Cice 
ly  had  said  that  it  happened  rarely.  Would  to  God 
that  the  man  would  be  touched  by  poor  Miss  Sabri- 
na's  loving  welcome,  and  by  little  Cicely's  deep  joy, 
and  refrain.  But  perhaps  these  very  things  would 
excite  the  longing  that  led  to  the  madness ! 

When  she  reached  the  dining-room  and  saw  the 
bright  faces  at  the  table,  Miss  Sabrina  looking 
younger  than  she  had  looked  for  years,  and  wearing 
the  white  lace  cape,  Cicely,  too,  freshly  dressed,  and 
Ferdinand,  they  seemed  to  her  like  phantasmagoria. 
Or  was  it  that  these  were  the  realities,  and  the  phan 
tasms  the  frightful  visions  which  had  haunted  her 
nightly  during  all  these  waiting  weeks? 

As  Ferdie  talked  (already  Miss  Sabrina  had  begun 
to  call  him  Ferdie),  it  was  impossible  not  to  listen  ; 
there  was  a  frankness  in  what  he  said,  and  in  his 
sunny  smile,  which  was  irresistibly  winning.  And 
the  contrast  between  these  and  his  height  and 
strength  —  this  too  was  attractive.  They  sat  long 
at  the  table  ;  Eve  felt  that  she  was  the  foreign  ele 
ment,  not  he  ;  that  she  was  the  stranger  within  their 
gates.  She  had  made  no  change  in  her  dress  ;  sud 
denly  it  occurred  to  her  that  Ferdie  must  hate  her 
for  her  mourning  garb,  which  of  course  would 
bring  Jack  Bruce  to  his  mind.  As  she  thought  of 
this,  she  looked  at  him.  His  eyes  happened  to  meet 
hers  at  the  moment,  and  he  gave  her  a  charming 
smile.  No,  there  was  no  hate  there.  In  the  draw 
ing-room,  later,  he  told  them  comical  stories  of  South 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  89 

America ;  he  took  Cicely's  guitar  and  sang  South 
American  songs  ;  the  three  women  sat  looking  at 
him,  Cicely  in  her  mute  bliss,  Miss  Sabrina  with  her 
admiration  and  her  interest,  Eve  with  her  perplex 
ity.  His  hand,  touching  the  strings,  was  well-shaped, 
powerful ;  was  that  the  hand  which  had  struck  a 
woman?  A  little  child?  As  the  evening  wore  on, 
she  almost  began  to  believe  that  Cicely  had  invented 
the  whole  of  her  damning  tale  ;  that  the  baby's  arm 
had  never  been  broken,  and  that  her  own  hurts  had 
been  received  in  some  other  way.  She  looked  at 
Cicely.  But  there  was  something  very  straightfor 
ward  in  her  pure  little  face. 

At  ten  o'clock  she  rose.  Cicely  made  no  motion, 
she  was  evidently  not  coming  with  her. 

"  Can  I  speak  to  you  for  a  moment,  Cicely  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Cicely,  with  alacrity.  "  What 
is  it  ?"  She  followed  Eve  into  the  hall. 

Eve  closed  the  door  ;  then  she  drew  her  into  the 
dining-room,  which  was  still  lighted.  "  You  said  he 
would  not  come  here." 

"Oh!"  with  a  long  breath;  "he  never  would  do 
it  for  me  before,  though  I  asked  him,  and  asked  him. 
And  yet  he  has  done  it  now  !  Think  of  that !" 

Eve  put  her  hands  on  Cicely's  shoulders  as  if  to 
keep  her,  to  call  her  back  to  realities.  "  Have  you 
forgotten  all  you  said  that  night  at  Mrs.  Cray's?" 

Cicely  gave  a  joyful  laugh.  "Yes."  Then,  more 
defiantly,  "Yes,  I  have  forgotten  the  whole!"  But 
her  tone  changed  back  swiftly  to  its  happy  confi 
dence  again  :  "  Nothing  will  happen,  Eve  ;  you 
needn't  be  afraid." 

"  Has  he  told  you  so  ?" 

"  Oh,  we  never  speak  of  it,"  answered  Cicely,  look- 


90  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ing  at  her  with  large,  surprised  eyes.  "Did  you 
think  we  spoke  of  it — of  such  a  thing  as  that?  A 
husband  and  wife  —  people  who  love  each  other? 
But  you  needn't  be  troubled  ;  it's  over  forever." 
She  disappeared. 

Eve  waited  a  moment ;  then  she  went  to  her  room. 
Before  she  reached  her  door  Cicely  overtook  her ; 
she  had  run  swiftly  after  her  down  the  long  corri 
dor.  She  put  her  arms  round  Eve  from  behind,  and 
whispered,  with  her  lips  against  Eve's  throat,  "  I 
ran  after  you  to  say  that  I  hope  that  you  will  have, 
some  day,  as  much  happiness  as  mine."  Then  she 
was  gone,  as  swiftly  as  she  had  come. 

To  wish  her  a  love  like  her  own,  this  seemed  al 
most  a  curse,  a  malediction.  But,  fortunately,  there 
was  no  danger  that  she,  Eve  Bruce,  should  ever  fall 
a  victim  to  such  miseries  ;  to  love  any  man  so  sub 
missively  was  weakness,  but  to  love  as  Cicely  loved, 
that  was  degradation  ! 

Her  image  gazed  back  at  her  from  the  mirror,  fair 
in  its  tints,  but  strangely,  almost  fiercely,  proud  ;  at 
that  moment  she  was  revolting,  dumbly,  against  the 
injustice  of  all  the  ages,  past,  present,  and  to  come, 
towards  women. 


IX. 

FEEDIB  had  been  two  weeks  at  Romney. 

Halcyon  days  they  had  seemed,  each  one  beauti 
ful  from  morning  to  night,  with  blue  skies  and  gold 
en  sunshine  ;  blossoms  covered  the  trees,  the  air 
was  full  of  perfume.  Ferdie  must  always  be  doing 
something  ;  besides  the  hunting  and  fishing,  he  had 


JUPITEll    LIGHTS.  91 

made  a  new  swing,  a  new  dock  ;  he  had  taught  the 
negroes  base-ball;  he  had  rowed  and  sailed  hither 
and  thither — up  the  river,  out  to  sea,  and  north  and 
south  along  the  sounds,  paying  visits  at  the  various 
islands  when  Cicely  desired  them.  Every  one  was 
delighted  with  him,  from  Miss  Sabrina  down  to  the 
smallest  darky  ;  the  captains  of  the  Inland  Route 
steamers  grew  accustomed  to  seeing  him  on  the  dock 
at  Jupiter  Light;  the  store -keeper  on  the  main 
land  opposite  looked  out  every  morning  for  his  sail 
coming  across  the  Sound.  Cicely,  in  the  same  state 
of  mute  bliss,  accompanied  him  everywhere  ;  Miss 
Sabrina  wTent  whenever  the  excursion  was  not  too 
long.  The  negroes  followed  him  about  in  a  troop;  of 
their  own  accord  they  gave  him  the  title  of  "young 
marse." 

Through  these  days  Eve  felt  herself  an  alien ; 
Cicely  said  nothing  to  her  save  when  she  was  with 
the  others ;  she  never  came  to  her  in  her  own  room. 
And  Eve  could  not  feel  that  this  neglect  was  caused 
by  dislike  ;  it  was  simply  the  egotism  of  perfect 
happiness.  When  Eve  was  present,  Cicely  talked  to 
her;  when  she  was  not  present,  Cicely  hardly  re 
membered  her  existence.  Miss  Sabrina  was  not 
quite  so  forgetful,  but  she  too  was  absorbed  ;  Eve 
sometimes  sat  all  the  evening  without  speaking ; 
fortunately  she  could  make  her  stay  short,  under 
the  pretext  of  not  disturbing  Jack  by  coming  in 
late.  She  was  not  a  timid  woman,  not  a  woman 
easily  disheartened  ;  each  long,  solitary  day  (for  she 
seldom  accompanied  them),  each  silent  evening,  only 
strengthened  her  purpose  of  carrying  away  the  child. 
She  kept  him  with  her  constantly  ;  Cicely  allowed 
it,  and  Ferdie,  after  one  or  two  good-natured  at- 


92  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

tempts  to  carry  off  the  little  boy  for  a  romp,  left 
him  undisturbed  to  his  aunt.  Whether  Cicely  had 
told  him  to  do  this,  Eve  did  not  know. 

Strangely  enough,  Ferdie  talked  to  her  more  than 
the  others  did.  Several  times,  seeing  her  in  the 
grove  with  Jack,  he  had  come  out  to  join  her.  And 
always,  as  he  approached,  Eve  would  make  some  ex 
cuse,  and  send  the  child  farther  away  ;  this  action 
on  her  part  was  involuntary.  One  morning  she  had 
gone  to  the  beach.  She  had  been  there  half  an  hour 
when  she  saw  his  figure  emerging  from  the  bush- 
bordered  road.  "  Take  Jack  away,"  she  said  quick 
ly  to  Dilsey. 

Dilsey,  vexed  at  being  ordered  off  when  hand 
some"  "  young  marse "  was  approaching,  took  her 
charge  round  a  point  entirely  out  of  sight,  so  that 
Eve  and  Ferdie  were  alone.  The  child  gone,  Eve 
could  turn  all  her  attention  to  the  man  by  her  side  ; 
her  watching  mood  came  upon  her,  the  mood  in 
which  she  spent  her  evenings.  Ferdie  had  thrown 
himself  down  on  the  sand  ;  handsome  as  he  was, 
Eve  had  discovered  faults  in  his  face  ;  the  features 
were  in  danger  of  becoming  too  sharp  ;  a  little  more, 
and  the  cheeks  would  be  thin.  The  mouth  had  a 
flattening  at  the  corners,  a  partly  unconscious,  partly 
voluntary  action  of  the  muscles,  like  that  which  ac 
companies  a  "  dare  "  (so  Eve  described  it  to  herself) 
on  the  part  of  a  boy  who  has  come  off  conqueror  in 
one  fight,  but  who  is  expecting  another  and  severer 
one  in  a  moment.  This  expression  (it  was  visible 
when  he  was  silent)  and  a  look  in  his  eyes  sometimes 
— these  two  things  seemed  to  Eve  signs  of  the  curse. 
They  were  slight  signs,  however ;  they  would  not 
have  been  discovered  by  one  woman  in  a  thousand  ; 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  93 

for  Ferdie  was  not  only  handsome,  there  was  also 
something  charming  about  him.  But  Eve  had  small 
admiration  for  the  charming. 

To-day,  as  Ferdie  lounged  beside  her,  she  deter 
mined  to  try  an  experiment. 

"  I  am  very  anxious  to  have  Jack,"  she  began. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  you  do  have  him  ;  it's  a  com 
plete  possession,"  answered  Ferdie,  laughing;  "I've 
scarcely  been  able  to  touch  the  youngster  since  I 
came." 

"  I  mean  that  I  want  him  to  live  with  me,  as 
though  he  were  my  own  child  ;  I  would  bring  him 
up  with  all  possible  care." 

"Have  you  made  a  vow,  then,  never  to  marry?" 
Ferdie  demanded,  looking  at  her  with  a  merry  gleam 
in  his  eyes. 

"  Should  you  object — if  Cicely  were  willing  to 
give  him  to  me  ?"  Eve  continued,  a  slight  haughti 
ness  in  her  manner  alone  replying  to  his  remark. 

"  I  suppose  I  couldn't,  though  I'm  fond  of  the 
little  chap."  ("  Fond !"  Eve  thought.  She  looked  at 
him,  with  parted  lips,  in  suspense.)  "But  I  can't 
imagine  Cicely's  consenting,"  Ferdie  went  on;  "she 
is  devoted  to  the  child." 

"  Not  so  much  as  she  is  to  you." 

"Do  you  want  me  to  urge  her  to  give  him  to 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  Eve  answered. 

"Why  do  you  want  him?  For  your  own  pleas 
ure  ?" 

Eve  hesitated  a  moment.     "  Partly." 

"Are  you  by  any  possibility  fancying  that  you 
can  take  better  care  of  him  than  we  can?"  asked 
Ferdie,  relapsing  into  his  laugh,  and  sending  another 


94  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

pebble  skimming  over  the  shining  waters.  "Leaving 
Cicely  aside,  I  am  the  jolliest  of  fathers." 

"  It  must  be  that  he  does  not  know,"  Eve  thought; 
"whatever  his  faults,  hypocrisy  is  not  one  of  them." 

But  this  only  made  him  the  more  terrible  to  her 
— a  man  who  could  change  so  unconsciously  into  a 
savage. 

"  Granting  the  jolliness,  I  wish  you  would  ask 
Cicely,"  she  said;  "  do  it  for  my  sake,  I  am  lonely, 
I  shall  grow  lonelier.  It  would  be  everything  to 
me  to  have  him." 

"  Of  course  you  will  grow  lonelier,"  said  Ferdie. 
He  turned  towards  her,  leaning  on  his  elbow.  "  Come, 
let  me  advise  you;  don't  be  a  forlorn  old  maid.  All 
women  ought  to  marry;  it  is  much  better  for  them." 

"  Are  they  then  so  sure  to  be  happy  ?"  asked  Eve, 
sarcastically. 

"  Of  course  they  are. — The  nice  ones." 

Eve  looked  at  him.  "  Even  when  married  to 
brutes  ? — to  madmen  ?" 

"Ob,  you  wouldn't  select  a  brute.  As  for  the 
madmen,  they  are  locked  up,"  answered  Ferdie, 
comfortably. 

Eve  rose.  "  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  say  next — 
if  I  sta}r  here,"  was  her  thought. 

"  I  wish  you  knew  my  brother  Paul,"  remarked 
Ferdie  as  he  lifted  himself  from  the  sand,  "/can't 
argue  with  you,  I  can't  put  you  down  "  (his  smile 
as  he  said  "put  you  down  "  was  wonderfully  sweet). 
"  But  he  could — Paul  could  ;  and  what's  more,  he 
would,  too  !  He  hates  a  woman  who  goes  on  as 
you  do." 

"  Your  brother  lives  in  Canada,  I  believe  ?"  said 
Eve,  coldly. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  95 

"  Canada  ? — what  gave  you  that  idea  ?  He  loathes 
Canada.  He  has  charge  of  a  mine  on  Lake  Supe 
rior.  He  has  always  worked  tremendously  hard, 
poor  old  Paul !  I  have  never  approved  of  it,  such  a 
steady  grind  as  that." 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  place  ?" 

"Port  aux  Pins;  called  by  the  natives  Potterpins. 
Are  you  thinking  of  going  there?" 

"I  may,"  Eve  answered.  Her  tone  was  defiant 
in  spite  of  herself;  what  did  she  care  for  Port  aux 
Pins  and  his  brother,  save  for  their  connection  with 
his  wretched  self  ? 

They  had  begun  to  walk  towards  home;  Dilsey 
was  in  advance  with  Jack.  "  I  beg  you  to  urge 
Cicely  to  let  me  have  him,"  Eve  began  again,  her 
eyes'  resting  on  Jack's  little  wagon. 

"  You  have  made  up  your  mind  to  ask  a  favor  of 
me;  you  must  want  it  terribly,"  Ferdie  responded. 
He  took  off  his  hat  and  let  the  breeze  blow  over  his 
forehead.  "  I  will  do  what  I  can  for  you.  Of  course 
we  cannot,  Cicely  and  I,  give  up  her  child  to  you 
entirely;  but  he  might  live  with  you  for  part  of  the 
year,  as  you  desire  it  so  much.  My  intention  is  to  go 
back  to  Valparaiso;  I  like  the  life  there,  and  I  shall 
make  it  my  home;  there  are  excellent  houses  to  be 
had,  I  have  one  in  view  at  this  moment.  Later,  of 
course,  Cicely  would  wish  her  boy  to  come  to  her 
there.  But  in  the  meantime,  while  he  is  still  so 
young — yes,  I  will  do  what  I  can  for  you  ;  you  may 
count  upon  me." 

"Thanks,"  answered  Eve.  Her  words  Avere  hum 
ble,  but  she  did  not  look  humble  as  she  spoke  them  ; 
Ferdie  with  his  favors  and  his  good-nature  seemed 
to  her  more  menacing  than  ever. 


96  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

The  tranquil  life  went  on.  Every  morning  she 
said  to  herself,  "  To-day  something  must  happen  !" 
But  the  Arcadian  hours  continued,  and  tAvo  more 
weeks  passed  slowly  by.  Eve  began  to  hate  the 
sunshine,  the  brilliant,  undimmed  southern  stars. 

"  My  dear,  you  are  growing  paler,"  said  Miss  Sa- 
brina  one  day.  "  Perhaps  this  sea-air  of  ours  is  not 
good  for  you." 

Eve  wanted  to  reply:  "Is  it  good  to  be  watching 
every  instant?  —  to  be  listening  and  starting  and 
thinking  one  hears  something  ?"  "  You  are  right ; 
it  is  not,"  she  answered  aloud  ;  "  all  the  same,  I  will 
stay  awhile  longer,  if  you  will  let  me." 

"  Oh,  my  dear — when  we  want  you  to  live  here!" 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  die  here,"  Eve  responded,  with  a 
laugh. 

Miss  Sabrina  looked  at  her  in  surprise  ;  for  the 
laugh  was  neither  gentle  nor  sweet. 

Eve  was  tired,  tired  mentally  and  physically;  this 
state  of  passive  waiting  taxed  her  ;  action  of  some 
sort,  even  though  accompanied  by  the  hardest  con 
ditions,  would  have  been  easier  to  her  ardent  uncon- 
quered  will.  She  occupied  herself  with  Jack  ;  she 
said  as  little  as  she  could  to  Ferdie  ;  and  she  watched 
Cicely.  Underneath  this  watchfulness  there  grew 
up  a  strong  contempt  for  love. 


X. 

"EvE  !"     A  hand  on  Eve's  shoulder. 

Eve  sat  up  in  bed  with  a  start ;  Cicely  stood  be 
side  her,  candle  in  hand.  "  Help  me  to  dress  Jack," 
she  said. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  97 

Eve  was  out  of  bed  in  an  instant.  She  lighted 
her  own  candle. 

Cicely  lifted  the  sleeping  child  from  his  crib,  and 
began  hastily  to  dress  him.  Eve  brought  all  the 
little  garments  quickly.  "Are  you  going  to  take 
him  out  of  the  house  ?"  she  asked.  (They  spoke  in 
whispers.) 

"Yes." 

Eve  threw  on  her  own  clothes. 

After  a  moment,  during  which  the  hands  of  both 
women  moved  rapidly,  Eve  said,  "  Where  is  he  ?" 

"  Outside — out  of  the  house  for  the  moment.  But 
he  will  come  back  ;  and  then,  if  he  comes  down  this 
hall,  we  must  escape." 

"  Where  ?  We  must  have  the  same  ideas,  you 
know,"  said  Eve,  buttoning  her  dress,  and  taking 
her  hat  and  shawl  from  the  wardrobe. 

"  I  thought  we  could  go  through  the  ballroom, 
and  out  by  the  north  wing." 

"  And  once  outside  ?" 

"  We  must  hide." 

"  But  where  ?" 

"  In  the  thicket." 

"  It  isn't  a  very  large  space.  Supposing  Jack 
should  cry  ?" 

Cicely  went  on  fastening  Jack's  little  coat.  "I 
can't  talk !" 

"  You  needn't,"  said  Eve  ;  "  I'll  take  care  of  you !" 

The  hasty  dressing  completed,  the  two  candles 
were  extinguished.  Jack  had  fallen  asleep  again. 
Cicely  held  him  herself  ;  she  would  not  let  Eve 
take  him.  They  opened  the  door  softly,  and  stood 
together  outside  in  the  dark  hall.  The  seconds 
passed  and  turned  into  minutes  ;  the  minutes  be- 
7 


y»  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

came  three,  then  five;  but  the  space  of  time  seemed 
a  half-hour.  Eve,  standing  still  in  the  darkness,  re 
covered  her  coolness;  she  stepped  noiselessly  back 
into  her  room  for  a  moment  or  two;  then  she  re 
turned  and  resumed  the  watch.  Cicely's  little  fig 
ure  standing  beside  her  looked  very  small. 

By-and-by  the  door  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall 
opened,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  Eve  saw  a 
vision:  Ferdie,  half  dressed  and  carrying  a  lighted 
candle,  appeared,  his  eyes  fierce  and  fixed,  his  cheeks 
flushed.  At  that  moment  his  beauty  was  terrible; 
but  he  saw  nothing,  heard  nothing;  he  was  like  a 
man  listening  to  something  afar  off. 

"  Come,"  whispered  Cicely. 

Swiftly  and  noiselessly  she  went  round  the  angle 
of  the  corridor,  opened  a  door,  and,  closing  it  be 
hind  them,  led  the  way  to  the  north  wing;  Eve  fol 
lowed,  or  rather  she  kept  by  her  side.  After  a 
breathless  winding  transit  through  the  labyrinth  of 
halls  and  chambers,  they  reached  the  ballroom. 

"  Now  we  can  run,"  Cicely  whispered.  Silently 
they  ran. 

Before  they  had  quite  reached  the  door  at  the  far 
end,  they  heard  a  sound  behind  them,  and  saw  a 
gleam  across  the  floor:  he  had  not  waited  in  Eve's 
room,  then  ;  he  had  divined  their  flight,  and  was 
following.  Cicely's  hand  swiftly  found  and  lifted 
the  latch;  she  opened  the  door,  and  they  passed 
through.  Eve  gave  one  glance  over  her  shoulder; 
lie  was  advancing,  but  he  was  not  running;  his  eyes 
had  the  same  stare. 

Cicely  threw  up  a  window,  gave  Jack  to  Eve, 
climbed  by  the  aid  of  a  chair  to  the  sill  and  jumped 
out;  then  she  put  up  her  arms  for  Jack,  and  Eve 


JUPITEK    LIGHTS.  99 

followed  her;  they  drew  down  the  window  behind 
them  from  the  outside.  There  was  a  moon,  but 
dark  clouds  obscured  its  light ;  the  air  was  still. 
Cicely  led  the  way  to  the  thicket;  pushing  her  way 
within,  she  sank  down,  the  bushes  crackling  loudly 
as  she  did  so.  "  Hurry  !"  she  said  to  Eve. 

Eve  crouched  beside  her  beneath  the  dense  foli 
age.  They  could  see  nothing,  but  they  could  hear. 
They  remained  motionless. 

After  several  minutes  of  suspense  they  heard  a 
step  on  the  plank  floor  of  the  veranda;  he  had  made 
his  way  out.  Then  followed  silence;  the  silence 
Avas  worse  than  the  sound  of  his  steps;  they  had 
the  sense  that  he  was  close  upon  them. 

After  some  time  without  another  sound,  suddenly 
his  candle  gleamed  directly  over  them;  he  had  ap 
proached  them  unheard  by  the  road,  Eve  not  know 
ing  and  Cicely  having  forgotten  that  it  was  so  near. 
For  an  instant  Eve's  heart  stopped  beating,  she 
thought  that  they  were  discovered;  escape  Avas  cut 
off,  for  the  thorns  and  spiny  leaves  held  their  skirts 
like  so  many  hands.  But  the  fixed  eyes  did  not  see 
them;  after  a  moment  the  beautiful,  cruel  face,  lit 
by  the  yellow  gleam  of  the  candle,  disappeared  from 
above;  the  light  moved  farther  away.  He  was  go 
ing  down  the  road;  every  now  and  then  they  could 
see  that  he  threw  a  ray  to  the  right  and  the  left,  as 
if  still  searching. 

"He  will  go  through  the  whole  thicket,  now  that 
he  has  the  idea,"  Cicely  whispered.  They  crept  into 
the  road,  Eve  carrying  Jack.  But,  once  outside, 
Cicely  took  him  again.  They  stood  erect,  they 
looked  back;  he  and  his  candle  were  still  going  on 
towards  the  sea. 


100  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Cicely  turned ;  she  took  a  path  which  led  to  the 
north  point.  "  There's  no  thicket  there.  And  if  he 
comes,  there's  a  boat." 

The  distance  to  the  point  was  nearly  a  mile.  The 
white  sand  of  the  track  guided  them  through  the 
dark  woods. 

"  Shouldn't  you  be  safer,  after  all,  in  the  house  ?" 
Eve  asked. 

"No,  for  this  time  he  is  determined  to  kill  us;  he 
thinks  that  I  am  some  one  else,  a  woman  who  is  go 
ing  to  attack  his  wife;  and  he  thinks  that  Jack  is 
some  other  child,  who  has  injured  Ids  Jack." 

"  He  shall  never  touch  Jack  !  Give  him  to  me, 
Cicely;  he  is  too  heavy  for  you." 

"  I  will  not  give  him  to  any  one — any  one,"  Cicely 
answered,  panting. 

As  they  approached  the  north  point,  the  moon 
shone  through  a  rift  in  the  clouds  ;  suddenly  it  was 
as  light  as  day;  their  faces  and  hands  were  ivory 
white  in  the  radiance. 

"  What  is  that  on  your  throat,  and  down  the  front 
of  your  dress?"  said  Eve.  "It's  wet.  Why,  it's 
blood !" 

"Yes;  I  am  cut  here  a  little,"  Cicely  answered, 
making  a  gesture  with  her  chin  towards  her  left 
shoulder;  "I  suppose  it  has  begun  to  bleed  again. 
He  has  a  knife  to-night.  That  is  what  makes  me 
so  afraid." 

The  Sound  mnv  came  into  view.  At  the  same 
instant  Eve,  looking  back,  perceived  a  point  of  yel 
low  light  behind  them  ;  the  path  was  straight  for  a 
long  distance,  and  the  light  was  far  away;  but  it 
was  advancing  in  their  direction.  Little  Jack,  fully 
awakened  by  their  rapid  flight,  had  lifted  his  head, 


JUPITEK    LIGHTS.  101 

trying  to  see  his  mother's  face ;  as  no  one  paid  any 
attention  to  him,  he  began  to  cry.  His  voice  seemed 
to  make  Cicely  frantic  ;  clasping  him  close,  pressing 
his  head  down  against  her  breast,  she  broke  into  a 
run. 

"  Get  into  the  boat  and  push  off,  don't  wait  for 
me;  Pm  in  no  danger,"  Eve  called  after  her.  She 
stood  there  watching. 

Cicely  reached  the  beach,  put  Jack  into  the  boat, 
and  then  tried  to  push  it  off.  It  was  a  heavy  old 
row-boat,  kept  there  for  the  convenience  of  the  ne 
groes  who  wished  to  cross  to  Singleton  Island;  to 
night  it  was  drawn  up  so  high  on  the  sands  that 
with  all  her  effort  Cicely  could  not  launch  it.  She 
strained  every  muscle  to  the  utmost;  in  her  ears 
there  was  a  loud  rushing  sound;  she  paused  dizzily, 
turning  her  head  away  from  the  water  for  a  moment, 
and  as  she  did  so,  she  too  saw  the  gleam,  pale  in  the 
moonlight,  far  down  the  path.  She  did  not  scream, 
there  was  a  tension  in  her  throat  which  kept  all 
sound  from  her  parched  mouth  ;  she  climbed  into 
the  boat,  seized  Jack,  and  staggered  forward  with 
the  vague  purpose  of  jumping  into  the  water  from, 
the  boat's  stern;  but  she  did  not  get  far,  she  sank 
suddenly  down. 

"  She  has  fainted  ;  so  much  the  better,"  Eve 
thought.  Jack,  who  had  fallen  as  his  mother  fell, 
cried  loudly.  "  He  is  not  hurt;  at  least  not  seriously," 
she  said  to  herself.  Then,  turning  into  the  wood, 
she  made  her  way  back  towards  the  advancing  point 
of  light.  After  some  progress  she  stopped. 

Ferdie  was  walking  rapidly  now;  in  his  left  hand 
he  held  his  candle  high  in  the  air  ;  in  his  right, 
which  hung  by  his  side,  there  was  something  that 


102  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

gleamed.  The  moonlight  shone  full  upon  his  face, 
and  Eve  could  see  the  expression,  whose  slight  signs 
she  had  noticed,  the  flattening  of  the  corners  of  the 
mouth;  this  was  now  so  deepened  that  his  lips  wore 
a  slight  grin.  Jack's  wail,  which  had  ceased  for 
several  minutes,  now  began  again,  and  at  the  same 
instant  his  moving  head  could  be  seen  above  the 
boat's  side;  he  had  disengaged  himself,  and  was  try 
ing  to  climb  up  higher,  by  the  aid  of  one  of  the  seats, 
in  order  to  give  larger  vent  to  his  astonishment  and 
his  grief. 

Ferdie  saw  him;  his  shoulders  made  a  quick  move 
ment;  an  inarticulate  sound  came  from  his  flattened, 
grimacing  mouth.  Then  he  began  to  run  towards 
the  boat.  At  the  same  moment  there  was  the  crack, 
not  loud,  of  a  pistol  discharged  very  near.  The  run 
ning  man  lunged  forward  and  fell  heavily  to  his 
knees;  then  to  the  sand.  His  arms  made  one  or  two 
spasmodic  movements.  Then  they  were  still. 

Eve's  figure  went  swiftly  through  the  wood  tow 
ards  the  shore ;  she  held  her  skirts  closely,  as  if 
afraid  of  their  rustling  sound.  Reaching  the  boat, 
she  made  a  mighty  effort,  both  hands  against  the 
bow,  her  body  slanting  forward,  her  feet  far  behind 
her,  deep  in  the  sand  and  pressing  against  it.  She 
was  very  strong,  and  the  boat  moved,  it  slid  down 
slowly  and  gratingly;  more  and  more  of  its  long 
length  entered  the  water,  until  at  last  only  the  bow 
still  touched  the  sand.  Eve  jumped  in,  pushed  off 
with  an  oar,  and  then,  stepping  over  Cicely's  prostrate 
form  to  reach  one  of  the  seats,  she  sat  down  and  be 
gan  to  row,  brushing  little  Jack  aside  with  her  knee 
(he  fell  down  more  amazed  and  grief-stricken  than 
ever),  and  placing  her  feet  against  the  next  seat  as  a 


JUPITKK    LIGHTS.  103 

brace.  She  rowed  with  long  strokes  and  with  all 
her  might;  perhaps  he  was  not  much  hurt,  after  all; 
perhaps  he  too  had  a  pistol,  and  could  reach  them. 
She  watched  the  beach  breathlessly. 

The  Sound  was  smooth  ;  before  long  a  wide  space 
of  water,  with  the  silvery  path  of  the  moon  across  it, 
separated  them  from  Abercrombie  Island.  Still  she 
could  not  stop.  She  looked  at  Cicely's  motionless 
tigure;  Jack,  weary  with  crying,  had  crawled  as  far 
as  one  of  her  knees  and  laid  his  head  against  it,  sob 
bing  "Aunty  Eve?  Aunty  Eve?" 

"  Yes,  darling,"  said  Eve,  mechanically,  still  watch 
ing  the  other  shore. 

At  last,  with  her  hands  smarting,  her  arms  strained, 
she  reached  Singleton  Island.  After  beaching  the 
boat,  she  knelt  down  and  chafed  Cicely's  temples, 
wetting  her  handkerchief  by  dipping  it  over  the 
boat's  side,  and  then  pressing  it  on  the  dead- white 
little  face.  Cicely  sighed.  Then  she  opened  her 
eyes  and  looked  up,  only  half  consciously,  at  the  sky. 
Next  she  looked  at  Eve,  who  was  bending  over  her, 
and  memory  came  back. 

"  We  are  safe,"  Eve  said,  answering  the  look ; 
"we  are  on  Singleton  Island,  and  no  one  is  follow 
ing  us."  She  lifted  the  desperate  little  Jack  and 
put  him  in  his  mother's  arms. 

Cicely  sat  up,  she  kissed  her  child  passionately. 
But  she  fell  back  again,  Eve  supporting  her. 

"  Let  me  see  that — that  place,"  Eve  said.  With 
nervo'us  touch  she  turned  down  the  little  lace  ruffle, 
which  was  dark  and  limp  with  the  stain  of  the  life- 
tide. 

"  It's  nothing,"  murmured  Cicely.  The  cut  had 
;nissed  its  aim,  it  was  low  down  on  the  throat,  near 


104  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

the  collar-bone;  it  was  a  flesh-wound,  not  danger 
ous. 

Cicely  pushed  away  Eve's  hands  and  sat  up. 
"  Where  is  Ferdie  ?"  she  demanded. 

"He — he  is  on  the  other  island,"  Eve  answered, 
hesitatingly.  "Don't  you  remember  that  he  fol 
lowed  us  ? — that  we  were  trying  to  escape  ?" 

"Well,  we  have  escaped,"  said  Cicely.  "And 
now  I  want  to  know  where  he  is." 

She  got  on  her  feet,  stepped  out  of  the  boat  to  the 
sand,  and  lifted  Jack  out;  she  muffled  the  child  in  a 
shawl,  and  made  him  walk  with  her  to  the  edge  of 
the  water.  Here  she  stood  looking  at  the  home-isl 
and,  straining  her  eyes  in  the  misty  moonlight. 

Eve  followed  her.  "I  think  the  farther  away  we 
go,  Cicely,  the  better;  at  least  for  the  present.  The 
steamer  stops  at  Singleton  Landing  at  dawn  ;  we 
can  go  on  board  as  we  are,  and  get  what  is  necessary 
in  Savannah." 

"Why  don't  I  see  him  on  the  beach  ?"  said  Cicely. 
"I  could  see  him  if  he  were  there — I  could  see  him 
walking.  If  he  followed  us,  as  you  say,  why  don't 
I  see  him  !"  She  put  a  hand  on  each  side  of  her 
mouth,  making  a  circle  of  them,  and  called  with 
all  her  strength,  "  Ferdie  ?  Fer-die  ?" 

"Are  you  mad?"  said  Eve. 

"  Fer-die  ?"  cried  Cicely  again. 

Eve  pulled  down  her  hands.  "He  can't  hear 
you." 

"Why  can't  he?"  said  Cicely,  turning  and  looking 
at  her. 

"  It's  too  far,"  answered  Eve,  in  a  trembling  voice. 

*  *  o 

"Perhaps  he  has  gone  for  a  boat,"  Cicely  suggested. 
"Yes,  perhaps   he    has,"    Eve    assented,  eagerly. 


JUPITEK   LIGHTS.  105 

And  for  a  moment  the  two  women  gazed  southward 
with  the  same  hopefulness. 

Then  Eve  came  back  to  reality.  "  What  are  we 
thinking  of?  Do  you  want  to  have  Jack  killed?" 

Cicely  threw  up  her  arms.  "  Oh,  if  it  weren't  for 
Jack  !"  Her  despair  at  that  moment  gave  her  maj 
esty. 

"Give  him  to  me;  let  me  take  him  away,"  urged 
Eve  again. 

"I  will  never  give  him  to  any  one;  I  will  never 
leave  him,  never." 

"  Then  you  must  both  go  with  me  for  the  present; 
we  will  go  farther  north  than  Savannah;  we  will  go 
to  New  York." 

"  There  is  only  one  place  I  will  go  to — one  person, 
and  that  is  Paul;  Ferdie  loves  Paul; — I  will  go  no 
where  else." 

"Very  well;  we  will  goto  Paul." 

The  struggle  was  over;  Cicely's  voice  had  grown 
lifeless.  Little  Jack,  tired  out,  laid  himself  despair 
ingly  down  on  the  sand;  she  sat  down  beside  him, 
rearranged  the  shawl  under  him  and  over  him,  and 
then,  as  he  fell  asleep,  she  clasped  her  hands  round 
her  knees,  and  waited  inertly,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
opposite  beach. 

Eve,  standing  behind  her,  also  watched  the  home- 
island.  "If  I  could  only  see  him!"  was  her  constant 
prayer.  She  was  even  ready  to  accept  the  sight  of 
a  boat  shooting  from  the  shadows  which  lay  dark 
on  the  western  side,  a  boat  coming  in  pursuit;  he 
would  have  had  time,  perhaps,  to  get  to  the  skiff 
\vhich  was  kept  on  that  side,  not  far  from  the  point; 
he  knew  where  all  the  boats  were.  Five  minutes — 
six — had  elapsed  since  they  landed  ;  yes,  he  would 


106  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

have  had  time.  She  looked  and  looked;  she  was  al 
most  sure  that  she  saw  a  boat  advancing,  and  clasped 
her  hands  in  joy. 

But  where  could  they  go,  in  case  he  should  really 
come  ?  To  Singleton  House,  where  there  was  only  a 
lame  old  man,  and  women  ?  There  was  no  door 
there  which  he  could  not  batter  down,  no  lock  which 
could  keep  him  out — the  terrible,  beautiful  madman. 
No;  it  was  better  to  think,  to  believe,  that  he  could 
not  come. 

She  walked  back  to  the  trees  that  skirted  the 
beach,  leaned  her  clasped  arms  against  the  trunk  of 
one  of  them,  and,  laying  her  head  upon  the  arm  that 
was  uppermost,  stood  motionless. 


THE  dawn  was  still  very  faint  when  the  steamer 
stopped  at  Singleton  Landing.  There  was  no  one 
waiting  save  an  old  negro,  who  caught  the  shore 
rope,  and  there  was  no  one  stirring  on  the  boat  save 
the  gruff  captain,  muffled  in  an  overcoat  though  the 
night  was  warm,  and  two  deck-hands,  who  put 
ashore  a  barrel  and  a  sack.  Lights  were  burning 
dimly  on  board  ;  the  negro  on  the  dock  carried  a 
lantern. 

Two  women  came  from  the  shadows,  and  crossed 
the  plank  to  the  lower  deck,  entering  the  dark  space 
within,  which  was  encumbered  with  loose  freight — 
crates  of  fowls,  boxes,  barrels,  coils  of  rope.  The 
taller  of  the  two  women  carried  a  sleeping  child. 

For  Cicely  had  come  to  the  end  of  her  strength  ; 
she  could  hardly  walk. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  107 

Eve  found  the  sleepy  mulatto  woman  who  an 
swered  to  the  name  of  stewardess,  and  told  her  to 
give  them  a  cabin  immediately. 

"Cabin?  Why,  de  cabin's  dish -yere,"  answered 
the  woman,  making  a  motion  with  her  hand  to  indi 
cate  the  gaudy  little  saloon  in  which  they  stood. 
She  surveyed  them  with  wonder. 

"  State-room,"  murmured  Cicely. 

Upon  the  lower  bed  in  the  very  unstately  white 
cell  which  was  at  last  opened  for  them,  her  little 
figure  was  soon  stretched  out,  apathetically.  Her 
eyes  remained  closed  ;  the  dawn,  as  it  grew  brighter, 
did  not  tempt  her  to  open  them;  she  lay  thus  all 
day.  Jack  slept  profoundly  for  several  hours  on  the 
shelf-like  bed  above  her.  Then  he  woke,  and  in 
stantly  became  very  merry,  laughing  to  see  the 
shining  green  water  outside,  the  near  shores,  the 
houses  and  groves  and  fields,  and  now  and  then  a 
row-boat  under  sail.  Eve  brought  him  some  bread 
and  milk,  and  then  she  gave  him  a  bath;  he  gurgled 
witli  laughter,  and  played  all  his  little  tricks  and 
games,  one  after  the  other.  But  Cicely  remained 
inert,  she  could  not  have  been  more  still  if  she  had 
been  dead;  the  rise  and  fall  of  her  chest  as  she 
breathed  was  so  slight  that  Eve  was  obliged  to  look 
closely  in  order  to  distinguish  it  at  all.  Just  before 
they  reached  Savannah  she  raised  her  to  a  sitting 
position,  and  held  a  cup  of  coffee  to  her  lips.  Cicely 
drank.  Then,  as  the  steamer  stopped,  Eve  lifted  her 
to  her  feet. 

Cicely's  eves  opened ;  thev  looked  at  Eve  reproach 
fully. 

"It  will  only  take  a  few  moments  to  go  to  the 
hotel,"  Eve  answered. 


108  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

She  called  the  stewardess  and  made  her  carry 
Jack;  she  herself  half  carried  Cicely.  She  signalled 
to  the  negro  driver  of  one  of  the  carriages  waiting 
at  the  dock,  and  in  a  few  minutes,  as  she  had  said, 
she  was  undressing  her  little  sister-in-law  and  lift 
ing  her  into  a  cool,  broad  bed. 

Jack  asleep,  she  began  her  watch.  The  sun  was 
setting,  she  went  to  one  of  the  windows,  and  looked 
out.  Below  her  was  a  wide  street  without  pavement, 
bordered  on  each  side  by  magnificent  trees.  She 
could  see  this  avenue  fur  a  long  distance;  the  per 
spective  made  by  its  broad  roadway  was  diversified, 
every  now  and  then,  by  a  clump  of  greenery  stand 
ing  in  the  centre,  with  a  fountain  or  a  statue  gleam 
ing  through  the  green.  Trees  were  everywhere;  it 
was  a  city  in  a  grove.  She  remembered  her  first  ar 
rival  off  this  coast,  when  she  came  from  England, — 
Tybee  Light,  and  then  the  lovely  river  ;  now  she 
was  passing  through  the  same  city,  fleeing  from — 
danger  ? — or  was  it  from  justice  ?  Twilight  deep 
ened;  she  left  the  window  and  sat  down  beside  the 
shaded  lamp;  her  hands  were  folded  upon  her  lap, 
her  gaze  was  fixed  unseeingly  upon  the  carpet.  Af 
ter  ten  minutes  had  passed,  she  became  conscious  of 
something,  and  raised  her  eyes;  Cicely  was  looking 
at  her.  Eve  rose  and  wrent  to  her.  "  Are  we  in 
Savannah  ?"  Cicely  asked. 

"Yes." 

Cicely  continued  to  look  at  her.  "If  you  really 
want  me  to  go  on,  you  had  better  take  me  at 
once." 

"  But  you  were  too  tired  to  go  on — 

"It  is  not  a  question  of  tired,  I  shall  be  tired  all 
my  life.  But  if  you  don't  want  me  to  go  back  by 


JUPITER  LIGHTS.  109 

the  first  boat  to-morrow,  you  had  better  take  me  away 
to-night." 

"  By  the  midnight  train,"  Eve  answered. 

And  at  midnight  they  left  Savannah. 

At  Charleston  they  were  obliged  to  wait ;  there 
had  been  a  flood,  and  the  track  was  overflowed. 

Some  purchases  were  necessary  for  their  comfort; 
Eve  did  not  dare  to  leave  Cicely  with  Jack,  lest  she 
should  find  them  both  gone  on  her  return;  she  there 
fore  took  them  with  her,  saying  to  the  negro  coach 
man,  privately,  "  If  that  lady  should  tell  you  to  re 
turn  to  the  hotel  or  to  drive  to  the  steamer  when  I 
am  not  with  you,  pay  no  attention  to  her;  she  is  ill, 
and  not  responsible  for  what  she  says." 

As  she  was  coming  out  of  a  shop,  a  face  she  knew 
met  her  eyes — Judge  Abercrombie.  He  had  come 
from  Gary  Hundred  that  morning,  and  was  on  his 
way  to  Romney;  he  intended  to  take  the  evening 
boat. 

He  recognized  them;  he  hurried  to  the  carriage 
door,  astonished,  alarmed.  Eve  seemed  cowed  by 
his  presence.  It  was  Cicely  who  said,  "  Yes,  we  are 
here,  grandpa.  Get  in,  and  I  will  tell  you  why." 

But  when  the  old  man  had  placed  himself  opposite 
to  her,  when  Eve  had  taken  her  seat  again  and  the 
carriage  was  rolling  towards  the  hotel,  Cicely  still 
remained  mute.  At  last  she  leaned  forward.  "I 
can't  tell  you,"  she  said,  putting  her  hand  into  his; 
"  at  least  I  can't  tell  you  now.  Will  you  wait,  dear? 
Do  wait."  Her  voice,  as  she  said  this,  was  like  the 
voice  of  a  little  girl  of  ten. 

The  old  man,  wondering,  held  her  hand  protect- 
ingly.  He  glanced  at  Eve.  But  Eve's  eyes  were 
turned  away. 


110  JUPITEK  LIGHTS. 

The  drive  was  a  short  one.  As  they  entered 
Cicely's  room,  Eve  took  Jack  in  her  arms  and  went 
out  again  into  the  hall,  closing  the  door  behind  her. 

The  hall  was  long,  with  a  window  at  each  end;  a 
breeze  blew  through  it,  laden  with  the  perfume  of 
flowers.  Jack  clamored  for  a  game  ;  Eve  raised 
him  to  her  shoulder,  and  went  to  the  window  at  the 
west  end ;  it  overlooked  a  garden  crowded  with 
blossoms  ;  then  she  turned  and  walked  to  the  east 
end,  Jack  considering  it  a  inarch,  and  playing  that 
her  shoulder  was  his  drum  ;  the  second  window 
commanded  a  view  of  the  burned  Avails  of  the  deso 
lated  town.  Eight  times  she  made  the  slow  journey 
from  the  flowers  to  the  ruins,  the  ruins  to  the  flowers. 
Then  Cicely  opened  the  door.  "  You  can  come  in 
now.  Grandpa  knows." 

Grandpa's  face,  in  his  new  knowledge,  was  pitiful 
to  see.  He  had  evidently  been  trying  to  remain 
calm,  and  he  had  succeeded  so  far  as  to  keep  his 
features  firm;  but  his  cheeks,  which  ordinarily  were 
tinted  with  pink,  had  turned  to  a  dead-looking  yel 
low.  "I  should  be  greatly  obliged  if  you  would 
come  with  me  for  a  walk,"  he  said  to  Eve;  "  I  have 
travelled  down  from  Gary  Hundred  this  morning, 
and,  after  being  shut  up  in  the  train,  you  know,  one 
feels  the  need  of  fresh  air."  lie  rose,  and  gave  first 
one  leg  and  then  the  other  a  little  shake,  with  a  pa 
thetic  pretence  of  preparing  for  vigorous  exercise. 

"I  don't  think  I  can  go,"  Eve  began.  But  a  sec 
ond  glance  at  his  dead-looking  face  made  her  relent, 
or  rather  made  her  brace  herself.  She  rang  the  bell, 
and  asked  one  of  the  chamber-maids  to  follow  them 
with  Jack;  once  outside,  she  sent  the  girl  forward. 
"  I  have  taken  Jack  because  we  cannot  trust  Cicely," 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  Ill 

she  explained.  "If  she  had  him,  she  might,  in  our 
absence,  take  him  and  start  back  to  the  island;  but 
she  will  not  go  without  him." 

"Neither  of  them  must  go  back,"  said  the  judge. 
He  spoke  mechanically. 

They  went  down  the  shaded  street  towards  the 
Battery.  "  And  there's  Sabrina,  too,  poor  girl  ! 
How  do  we  know  what  has  happened  to  her  !"  Eve 
hesitated.  Then  she  said,  slowly,  "  Cicely  tells  me 
that  when  these  attacks  are  on  him,  he  is  dangerous 
only  to  herself  and  Jack." 

"  That  makes  him  only  the  greater  devil  !"  an 
swered  the  judge.  "  What  I  fear  is  that  he  is  al 
ready  on  her  track;  he  would  get  over  the  attack 
soon — he  is  as  strong  as  an  ox — and  if  he  should  reach 
her, — have  a  chance  at  her  with  his  damned  repent 
ant  winnings —  We  must  get  off  immediately  !  In 
fact,  I  don't  understand  why  you  are  stopping  here 
at  all,"  he  added,  with  sudden  anger. 

"We  couldn't  go  on;  the  track  is  under  water 
somewhere.  And  perhaps  we  need  not  hurry  so." 
She  paused.  "I  suppose  you  know  that  Cicely  will 
go  only  to  Paul  Tcnnant,"  she  added.  "She  refuses 
to  go  anywhere  else." 

"  Where  the  devil  is  the  man  ?" 

"It's  a  place  called  Port  aux  Pins,  on  Lake  Supe 
rior.  I  really  think  that  if  we  don't  take  her  to  him 
at  once,  she  will  leave  us  and  get  back  to  Ferdie,  in 
spite  of  all  we  can  do." 

"  If  there's  no  train,  we'll  take  a  carriage,  we'll 
drive,"  declared  the  judge.  "  This  is  the  tirst  place 
he'll  come  to;  we  won't  wait  here!" 

"There'll  be  a  train  this  evening;  they  tell  me  so 
at  the  hotel,"  Eve  answered.  Then  she  waited  a 


112  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

moment.  "  "We  shall  have  to  stop  on  the  way, 
Cicely  is  so  exhausted;  I  suppose  \ve  go  to  Pitts 
burgh,  and  then  to  Cleveland  to  take  the  lake  steam 
er  ;  if  you  should  write  to  Miss  Sabrina  from  here, 
the  answer  might  meet  us  at  one  of  those  places." 

"  Of  course  I  shall  write.     At  once." 

"No,  don't  write  !"  said  Eve,  grasping  his  arm 
suddenly.  "  Or  at  least  don't  let  her  send  any  an 
swer  until  the  journey  is  ended.  It's  better  not  to 
know — not  to  know  !" 

"  Not  to  know  whether  poor  Sabrina  is  safe  ?  Not 
to  know  whether  that  brute  is  on  our  track  ?  I  can't 
imagine  what  you  are  thinking  of  ;  perhaps  you  will 
kindly  explain  ?" 

"  It's  only  that  my  head  aches.  I  don't  know  what 
I  am  saying  !" 

"Yes,  you  must  be  overwrought,"  said  the  judge. 
He  had  been  thinking  only  of  Cicely.  "  You  pro 
tected  my  poor  little  girl,  you  brought  her  away;  it 
was  a  brave  act,"  he  said,  admiringly. 

"It  was  for  Jack,  I  wanted  to  save  my  brother's 
child.  Surely  that  was  right?"  Eve's  voice,  as  she 
said  this,  broke  into  a  sob. 

"  They  wrere  in  danger  of  their  lives,  then  ?"  asked 
the  grandfather,  in  a  low  tone.  "Cicely  didn't  tell 
me." 

"  She  did  not  know,  she  had  fainted.  A  few  min 
utes  more,  and  I  believe  he  would —  We  should 
not  have  them  now." 

"  But  you  got  the  boat  off  in  time." 

"  But  I  got  the  boat  off  in  time,"  Eve  repeated, 
lethargically. 

They  had  now  reached  the  Battery  Park;  they  en 
tered  and  sat  down  on  one  of  the  benches;  the  negro 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  113 

girl  played  with  Jack  on  the  broad  walk  which  over 
looks  the  water.  The  harbor,  with  Sumter  in  the 
distance,  the  two  rivers  flowing  down,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  beautiful  city — beautiful  still,  though 
desolated  by  war — made  a  scene  full  of  loveliness. 
The  judge  took  off  his  hat,  as  if  he  needed  more  air. 

"You  are  ill/'  said  Eve,  in  the  same  mechanical 
voice. 

"  It's  only  that  I  cannot  believe  it  even  now — what 
Cicely  told  me.  Why,  it  is  my  own  darling  little 
grandchild,  who  has  been  treated  so,  who  has  been 
beaten — struck  to  the  floor  !  His  strong  hand  has 
come  down  on  her  shoulder  so  that  you  could  hear 
it! — Cicely,  Eve;  my  little  Cicely!"  His  old  eyes, 
small  and  dry,  looked  at  Eve  piteously. 

She  put  out  her  hand  and  took  his  in  silence. 

"  She  has  always  been  such  a  delicate  little  creature, 
that  we  never  let  her  have  any  care  or  trouble;  we 
even  spoke  to  her  gently  always,  Sabrina  and  I.  For 
she  was  so  delicate  when  she  was  a  baby  that  they 
thought  she  couldn't  live;  she  had  her  bright  eyes, 
even  then,  and  she  was  so  pretty  and  winning;  but 
they  said  she  must  soon  follow  her  mother.  We 
were  so  glad  when  she  began  to  grow  stronger. 
But — have  we  saved  her  for  this?" 

"  She  is  away  from  him  now,"  Eve  answered. 

"And  there  was  her  father — my  boy  Marmaduke; 
what  would  Duke  have  said? — his  baby — his  little 
girl !"  lie  rose  and  walked  to  and  fro;  for  the  first 
time  his  gait  was  that  of  a  feeble  old  man. 

"  They  can't  know  what  happens  to  us  here  ! — or 
else  that  they  sec  some  way  out  of  it  that  we  do  not 
see,"  said  Eve,  passionately.  "  Otherwise,  it  would 
be  too  cruel." 


114  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  Duke  died  when  she  was  only  two  years  old," 
the  judge  went  on.  "  'Father,'  he  said  to  me,  just 
at  the  last,  '  I  leave  you  baby.'  And  this  is  what  I 
have  brought  her  to  !" 

"  You  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  she  married  him 
of  her  own  free  will.  And  she  forgot  everything, 
she  forgot  my  brother  very  soon." 

"  I  don't  know  what  she  forgot,  I  don't  care  what 
she  forgot,"  the  old  man  answered.  He  sat  down 
on  the  bench  again,  and  put  his  hands  over  his  face. 
He  was  crying — the  slow,  hard  tears  of  age. 

At  sunset  they  started.  The  negro  chamber-maid, 
to  whom  Jack  had  taken  a  fancy,  went  with  them 
as  nurse,  and  twenty  shining  black  faces  were  at  the 
station  to  see  her  off. 

"Good-bye,  Porley;  take  keer  yersef." 

"  Yere's  luck,  Porley;  doan  yer  forgot  us." 

"Step  libely,  Jonah;  Porley's  a-lookin'  at  yer." 

"Good-bye,  Porley  !" 

The  train  moved  out. 


XII. 

A  DOCK  on  the  Cuyahoga  River,  at  Cleveland. 
The  high  bows  of  a  propeller  loomed  up  far  above 
them  ;  a  wooden  bridge,  with  hand-rails  of  rope, 
extended  from  a  square  opening  in  its  side  to  the 
place  where  they  were  standing — the  judge,  bewil 
dered  by  the  deafening  noise  of  the  letting-off  of 
steam  and  by  the  hustling  of  the  deck-hands  who 
ran  to  and  fro  putting  on  freight  ;  little  Jack, 
round-eyed  with  wonder,  surveying  the  scene  from 
his  nurse's  arms;  Cicely,  listless,  unhearing;  and 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  115 

Eve,  with  the  same  pale-cheeked  self-control  and 
the  same  devoted  attention  to  Cicely  which  had 
marked  her  manner  through  all  their  rapid  journey 
across  the  broad  country  from  Charleston  to  Wash 
ington,  from  Washington  to  Pittsburgh,  from  Pitts 
burgh  to  Cleveland. 

"I  think  we  cross  here,"  she  said;  "by  this 
bridge."  She  herself  went  first.  The  bridge  as- 

o  o 

ccnded  sharply  ;  little  slats  of  wood  were  nailed 
across  its  planks  in  order  to  make  the  surface  less 
slippery.  The  yellow  river,  greasy  with  petroleum 
from  the  refineries  higher  up  the  stream,  heaved  a, 
little  from  the  constant  passing  of  other  craft;  this 
heaving  made  the  bridge  unsteady,  and  Eve  was 
obliged  to  help  the  nurse  when  she  crossed  with 
Jack,  and  then  to  lead  Cicely,  and  to  give  a  hand  to 
the  judge,  who  came  last. 

"You  are  never  dizzy,"  said  the  judge. 

"No,  I  am  never  dizzy,"  Eve  answered,  as  though 
she  were  saying  the  phrase  over  to  herself  as  a 
warning. 

She  led  the  way  up  a  steep  staircase  to  the  cabin 
above.  This  was  a  long  narrow  saloon,  decked  with 
tables  each  covered  with  a  red  cloth,  whereon  stood, 
in  white  vases  representing  a  hand  grasping  a  cor 
nucopia,  formal  bouquets,  composed  principally  of 
peonies  and  the  foliage  of  asparagus.  Narrow  doors, 
ornamented  with  gilding,  formed  a  panelling  on 
each  side  ;  between  the  doors  small  stiff  sofas  of 
red  velvet  were  attached  by  iron  clamps  to  the  floor, 
which  was  covered  with  a  brilliant  carpet;  above 
each  sofa,  under  the  low  ceiling,  was  a  narrow  grat 
ing.  Women  and  a  few  men  sat  here  and  there  on 
the  sofas  ;  they  looked  at  the  new  passengers  apa- 


116  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

thetically.  Lawless  children  chased  one  another  up 
and  down  the  narrow  spaces  between  the  sofas  and 
the  tables,  forcing  each  person  who  was  seated  to 
draw  in  his  or  her  legs  with  lightning  rapidity  as 
they  passed;  babies  with  candy,  babies  with  cook 
ies,  babies  with  apples,  crawled  and  tottered  about 
on  the  velvet  carpet,  and  drew  themselves  up  by  the 
legs  of  the  tables,  leaving  sticky  marks  on  the  ma 
hogany  surfaces,  and  generally  ending  by  striking 
their  heads  against  the  top,  sitting  down  suddenly 
and  breaking  into  a  howl.  Eve  led  the  way  to  the 
deck;  she  brought  forward  chairs,  and  they  seated 
themselves.  A  regularly  repeated  and  deafening 
clash  came  from  the  regions  below;  the  deck-hands 
were  bringing  steel  rails  from  a  warehouse  on  the 
dock,  and  adding  them  one  by  one  to  the  pile  already 
on  board  by  the  simple  method  of  throwing  them 
upon  it.  After  the  little  party  had  sat  there  for  fif 
teen  minutes,  Eve  said,  "  It  is — it  is  insupportable !" 

"You  feel  it  because  you  have  not  slept.  You 
haven't  slept  at  all  since  we  started,"  said  Cicely, 
mentioning  the  fact,  but  without  evident  interest 
in  it. 

"  Yes  I  have,"  responded  Eve,  quickly. 

There  came  another  tremendous  clash.  Eve  visi 
bly  trembled;  her  cheeks  seemed  to  grow  more  wan, 
the  line  between  her  eyes  deepened. 

"  This  noise  must  be  stopped!"  said  the  old  planter, 
authoritatively.  He  got  up  and  went  to  the  side. 

"  They  won't  stop,"  said  Cicely. 

Eve  sat  still,  the  tips  of  the  fingers  of  each  of  her 
hands  pressed  hard  into  the  palm,  and  bits  of  her 
inner  cheek  held  tightly  between  her  teeth.  At  last 
the  rails  were  all  on  board  and  the  gangways  hauled 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  117 

in;  the  propeller  moved  slowly  away  from  her  dock, 
a  row  of  loungers,  with  upturned  faces,  watching  her 
departure,  and  visibly  envying  the  captain,  who 
called  out  orders  loudly  from  the  upper  deck — orders 
which  were  needed;  for  the  river  was  crowded  with 
craft  of  all  kinds,  and  many  man  ecu  v  res  were  neces 
sary  before  the  long  steamer  could  turn  herself  and 
reach  the  open  lake.  She  passed  out  at  last  between 
two  piers,  down  which  boys  ran  as  fast  as  they  could, 
racing  with  the  engine  to  see  which  should  reach  the 
end  first.  At  last  they  were  away,  and  the  noises 
ceased;  there  was  only  the  regular  throb  of  the  ma 
chinery,  the  sound  of  the  water  churned  by  the 
screw.  The  sun  was  setting  ;  Eve  looked  at  the  re 
ceding  shores — the  spires  of  Cleveland  on  the  bluffs 
which  rise  from  the  Cuyahoga,  the  mass  of  roofs  ex 
tending  to  the  east  and  the  west,  bounded  on  the 
latter  side  by  the  pine-clad  cliffs  of  Rocky  River. 
After  the  splendid  flaming  sunset,  the  lake  grew 
suddenly  dark  ;  it  looked  as  vast  and  dusky  as  the 
ocean.  Cicely  sprang  up.  "  I  know  I  shall  never 
come  back  across  all  this  water  ! — I  know  I  never, 
never  shall !" 

"Yes,  you  will,  little  girl,"  answered  her  grand 
father,  fondly. 

"  I  don't  mind.  But  I  can't  stay  here  and  think ! 
They  must  be  doing  something  in  there — all  those 
people  we  saw  in  the  cabin;  I  am  going  in  to  see." 
She  went  within,  and  Eve  followed  her;  the  nurse 
carried  Jack  after  his  mother.  But  the  judge  re 
mained  where  he  was ;  he  sat  with  one  hand  laid 
over  the  other  on  the  top  of  his  cane.  He  looked 
at  the  dark  hike;  his  feeling  was,  "What  is  to  be 
come  of  us?" 


118  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

Within,  all  was  animation;  the  tables  had  been 
pushed  together  by  a  troop  of  hurrying  darkies  in 
white  aprons,  and  now  the  same  troop  were  bringing 
in  small  open  dishes,  some  flat  and  some  bowl-like, 
containing  an  array  of  food  which  included  every 
thing  from  beefsteak  to  ice-cream.  The  passengers 
occupying  the  sofas  watched  the  proceedings;  then, 
at  the  sound  of  a  tap  on  the  gong,  they  rose  and 
seated  themselves  on  the  round  stools  which  did 
duty  as  chairs. 

"  Come,"  said  Cicely,  "  let  us  go  too."  She  seated 
herself;  and  again  Eve  patiently  followed  her.  Cicely 
tasted  every  thing  and  ate  nothing.  Eve  neither  tasted 
nor  ate;  she  drank  a  glass  of  water.  When  the  meal 
was  over  she  spoke  to  one  of  the  waiters,  and  gave 
him  a  fee;  ten  minutes  later  she  carried  out  to  the 
old  man  on  the  deck,  with  her  own  hands,  a  tray  con 
taining  freshly  cooked  food,  toast  and  tea;  she  ar 
ranged  these  on  a  bench  under  the  hanging  lamp 
(for  the  deck  at  the  stern  was  covered)  ;  then  she 
drew  up  a  chair.  The  judge  had  not  stirred. 

"Won't  you  come?"  said  Eve,  gently.  "I  have 
brought  it  for  you." 

The  judge  rose,  and,  coming  to  the  improvised 
table,  sat  down.  He  had  not  thought  that  he  could 
touch  anything,  but  the  hot  tea  roused  him,  and  be 
fore  he  knew  it  he  was  eating  heartily.  "  Do  you 
know,  I — I  believe  I  was  cold,"  he  said,  trying  to 
laugh.  "Yes — even  this  warm  night !" 

"  I  think  we  are  all  cold,"  Eve  answered  ;  "  we  are 
all  numbed.  It  will  be  better  when  we  get  there — 
wherever  it  is." 

The  judge,  warmed  and  revived,  no  longer  felt  so 
dreary.  "You  are  our  good  angel,"  he  said.  And, 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  119 

v.  itii  his  old-fashioned  courtesy,  he  bent  his  head 
over  her  hand. 

But  Eve  snatched  her  hand  away  and  fled;  she 
fairly  ran.  He  looked  after  her  in  wonder. 

Within,  the  tables  had  again  been  cleared,  and 
then  piled  upon  top  of  one  another  at  one  end  of  the 
saloon;  in  front  of  this  pile  stretched  a  row  of  chairs. 
These  seats  were  occupied  by  the  orchestra,  the  same 
negro  waiters,  with  two  violins  and  a  number  of  ban 
joes  and  guitars. 

"Forward  one;  forward  two — 

De  engine  keeps  de  time; 
Leabe  de  lady  in  de  centre, 
Bal-unse  in  er  Hue," 

sang  the  leader  to  the  tune  of  "  Nelly  Bly,"  calling 
off  the  figures  of  the  quadrille  in  rhymes  of  his  own 
invention.  Three  quadrilles  had  been  formed;  two 
thin  women  danced  Avith  their  bonnets  on;  a  tall 
man  in  a  linen  duster  and  a  short  man  in  spectacles 
bounded  about  without  a  smile,  taking  careful  steps; 
girls  danced  with  each  other,  giggling  profusely; 
children  danced  with  their  mothers;  and  the  belle 
of  the  boat,  a  plump  young  woman  with  long  curls, 
danced  with  two  youths,  changing  impartially  after 
each  figure,  and  throwing  glances  over  her  shoulder 
meanwhile  at  t\vo  more  who  stood  in  the  doorway 
admiring.  The  throb  of  the  engine  could  be  felt 
through  the  motion  of  the  twenty  -  four  dancers, 
through  the  clear  tenor  of  the  negro  who  sang.  Out 
side,  was  the  wide  lake  and  the  night. 

Sitting  on  one  of  the  sofas,  alone,  was  Cicely.  She 
was  looking  at  the  dancers  intently,  her  lips  slightly 
parted.  Eve  sat  down  quietly  by  her  side. 

"  Oh,  how  you  follow  me  !"  said  Cicely,  moving 
away. 


120  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Then  suddenly  she  began  to  laugh.  "See  that 
man  in  the  linen  duster  !  He  takes  such  mincing 
little  steps  in  his  great  prunella  shoes.  See  him 
smile  !  Oh  !  oh  !"  She  pressed  her  handkerchief 
over  her  lips  to  stifle  her  spasmodic  laughter.  But 
she  could  not  stifle  it. 

"  Come,"  said  Eve,  putting  her  arm  round  her. 
Their  state-room  was  near,  she  half  carried  her  in. 
Light  came  through  the  gilded  grating  above.  Cicely 
still  laughed,  lying  in  the  lower  berth;  Eve  undressed 
her;  with  soothing  touch  she  tried  to  calm  her,  to 
stop  her  wild  glee. 

"He  turned  out  his  toes  in  those  awful  prunella 
shoes  !"  said  Cicely,  breaking  into  another  peal  of 
mirth. 

"Hush,  dear.     Hush." 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  away.  You  always  do  and 
say  the  wrong  thing,"  said  Cicely,  suddenly. 

"Perhaps  I  do,"  answered  Eve,  humbly  enough. 

Jack  was  asleep  in  the  upper  berth ;  she  herself  (as 
she  would  not  leave  them)  was  to  occupy  an  impro 
vised  couch  on  the  floor.  But  first  she  went  out 
softly,  closing  the  door  behind  her;  she  was  going 
to  look  for  her  other  charge.  The  judge,  however, 
had  gone  to  bed,  and  Eve  came  back.  The  dancing 
had  ceased  for  the  moment;  a  plump  young  negro 
was  singing,  and  accompanying  himself  on  the  guitar; 
his  half-closed  eyes  gazed  sentimentally  at  the  ceil 
ing;  through  his  thick  lips  came,  in  one  of  the  sweet 
est  voices  in  the  world, 

"  No  one  to  love, 

None  to  cay-ress; 
Roam-ing  alone  through 
This  world's  wilderness — " 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  121 

Eve  stood  with  her  hand  on  her  door  for  an  in 
stant  looking  at  him;  then  she  looked  at  the  listen 
ing  people.  Suddenly  it  came  over  her:  "Perhaps 
it  is  all  a  dream  !  Perhaps  I  shall  wake  and  find 
it  one  !" 

She  went  in.  Cicely  was  in  her  lethargic  state, 
her  hands  lying  motionless  by  her  sides,  her  eyes 
closed.  Eve  uncoiled  her  own  fair  hair  arid  loosened 
her  dress;  then  she  lay  down  on  her  couch  on  the 
floor. 

But  she  could  not  sleep;  with  the  first  pink  flush 
of  dawn  she  was  glad  to  rise  and  go  out  on  deck  to 
cool  her  tired  eyes  in  the  fresh  air.  The  steamer 
was  entering  the  Detroit  River;  deep  and  broad,  its 
mighty  current  flowed  onward  smoothly,  brimming 
full  between  its  low  green  banks;  the  islands,  decked 
in  the  fresh  verdure  of  early  summer,  looked  inde 
scribably  lovely  as  the  rising  sun  touched  them  with 
gold;  the  lonely  gazer  wished  that  she  might  stop 
there,  might  live  forever,  hide  forever,  in  one  of  these 
green  havens  of  rest.  But  the  steamer  did  not  pause, 
and,  laggingly,  the  interminable  hours  followed  one 
another  through  another  day.  They  were  now  cross 
ing  Lake  Huron,  they  were  out  of  sight  of  land;  the 
purity  of  the  cool  blue  water,  ruffled  by  the  breeze 
into  curls  of  foam,  made  a  picture  to  refresh  the 
weariest  vision.  But  Eve  looked  at  it  unseeingly, 
and  Cicely  did  not  look  at  all;  the  judge,  too,  saw 
nothing — nothing  but  Cicely.  There  had  been  no 
letter  at  Cleveland;  for  tidings  they  must  still  wait. 
Cicely  had  written  a  few  lines  to  Paul  Tennant,  an 
nouncing  their  arrival.  But  to  Eve  it  seemed  as  if 
they  should  never  arrive,  as  if  they  should  journey 
forever  on  this  phantom  boat,  journey  till  they  died. 


liJL*  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

At  last  Lake  Huron  was  left  behind;  the  steamer 
turned  and  went  round  the  foaming  leap  of  the  St. 
Mary's  River,  the  Sault  Sainte  Marie  (called  by  lake- 
country  people  the  Soo),and  entered  Lake  Superior. 
Another  broad  expanse  of  water  like  a  sea.  At  last, 
on  the  fifth  day,  Port  aux  Pins  was  in  sight,  a  spot 
of  white  amid  the  pines.  They  were  all  assembled 
at  the  bow — Cicely,  Eve,  the  judge,  and  Porley  with 
little  Jack;  as  the  pier  carne  into  view  with  the 
waiting  group  of  people  at  its  end,  no  one  spoke. 
Nearer  and  nearer,  now  they  could  distinguish  fig 
ures;  nearer  and  nearer,  now  they  could  see  faces. 
Cicely  knew  which  was  Paul  immediately,  though 
she  had  never  seen  him.  The  judge  took  the  knowl 
edge  from  her  eyes.  Now  people  began  to  call  to 
friends  on  the  pier.  Now  the  pier  itself  touched 
the  steamer's  side,  the  gangways  were  put  out,  and 
persons  were  crossing;  in  another  minute  a  tall  man 
had  joined  them,  and,  bending  his  head,  had  kissed 
Cicely. 

"Mr.  Tennant?"  the  judge  had  asked. 

"Yes,"  answered  Paul  Tennant.  He  was  looking 
at  Cicely,  trying  to  control  a  sudden  emotion  that 
had  surprised  him, — a  man  not  given  to  emotions; 
he  turned  away  for  a  moment,  patting  Jack's  head. 
"  She  is  so  young  !"  he  murmured  to  the  judge. 

"  Paul,"  said  Cicely,  coming  to  them,  "  you  have 
heard  from  Ferdie  ?  There  are  letters  ?" 

"No,  I  haven't  heard  lately.  There  are  two  let 
ters  for  you,  but  they  are  not  in  his  handwriting." 

"  Are  they  here  ?" 

Paul's  eyes  turned  rapidly,  first  to  the  judge,  then 
to  Eve.  Eve's  eyes  answered  him. 

"  At  the  house,"  he  said. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  123 

"  Is  it  far  ?  Let  us  go  at  once."  And  Cicely 
turned  towards  the  stairs. 

"  It's  at  the  other  end  of  the  town;  I've  a  wagon 
waiting." 

Cicely  was  already  descending.  She  crossed  the 
gangway  with  rapid  step;  she  would  not  wait  for 
their  meagre  luggage.  "  Take  me  there  at  once, 
please;  the  wagon  can  come  back  for  the  others." 

"  I  must  go  too,"  said  Eve.  The  tone  of  her  voice 
was  beseeching. 

"  Get  in,  then,"  said  Cicely.  "  Paul,  take  us 
quickly,  won't  you  ?"  In  her  haste  she  seized  the 
reins  and  thrust  them  into  his  hands.  She  would 
not  sit  down  until  he  had  taken  his  seat. 

"  I  will  send  the  wagon  back  immediately,"  Paul 
said  to  the  judge.  Then,  seeing  the  lost  look  of  the 
old  planter,  he  called  out:  "  Ilollis  !  Here  a  mo 
ment." 

A  thin  man  with  gray  hair  detached  himself  from 
the  group  of  loungers  on  the  pier,  and  hurried  tow 
ards  them. 

"  Judge  Abercrombie,  this  is  Mr.  Christopher 
Ilollis,"  said  Paul;  "he  lives  here,  and  he  is  a  great 
friend  of  mine.  Ilollis,  will  you  help  about  the  bag 
gage  ?  I'm  coining  back  immediately." 

They  drove  away,  but  not  before  Cicely  had  asked 
Paul  to  let  her  sit  beside  him;  Eve  was  left  alone 
on  the  back  seat. 

"  I  wanted  to  sit  beside  you,  Paul;  but  I'm  afraid 
I  can't  talk,"  Cicely  said.  She  put  the  back  of  her 
hand  under  her  chin,  as  if  to  support  her  head;  she 
looked  about  vaguely — at  the  street,  the  passing  peo- 
pie. 

"  That's  right,  don't  say  anything;  I  like  it  bet- 


124  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

ter.  You  must  be  terribly  tired,"  answered  Paul, 
reassuringly. 

They  stopped  before  a  white  cottage.  Upon  en 
tering,  Paul  gave  an  inquiring  glance  at  Eve;  then 
he  left  the  room,  and  came  back  with  two  letters. 

Cicely  tore  them  open. 

Eve  drew  nearer. 

In  another  instant  Cicely  gave  a  cry  which  rarfg 
through  the  house.  "  He  is  hurt !  Some  one  has 
shot  him — has  shot  him  !  Clutching  the  pages,  she 
swayed  forward,  but  Paul  caught  her.  He  laid  her 
upon  a  couch;  with  his  large,  strong  hands  he  placed 
a  cushion  under  her  head. 

Eve  watched  him.  She  did  not  help  him.  Then 
she  came  to  the  sofa.  "  Is  he  dead,  Cicely  ?"  she 
asked,  abruptly. 

Cicely  looked  at  her.  "  You  want  him  to  be  !" 
Springing  up  suddenly,  like  a  little  tigress,  still 
clutching  her  letters,  she  struck  Eve  with  her  left 
hand.  Her  gloved  palm  was  soft,  but,  as  she  had 
exerted  all  her  strength  in  the  blow,  the  mark  across 
Eve's  cheek  was  red. 

"Never  mind,"  said  Eve,  hastily,  as  Paul  started 
forward;  "I  am  glad  she  did  it."  Her  eyes  were 
bright;  the  red  had  come  into  her  other  cheek;  in 
spite  of  the  mark  of  the  blow,  her  face  looked  brill 
iant. 

Cicely  had  fallen  back;  and  this  time  she  had  lost 
consciousness. 

"  You  can  leave  her  to  me  now,"  Eve  went  on. 
"  Of  course  what  she  said  last  means  that  he  is  not 
dead  !"  she  added,  with  a  long  breath. 

"Dead?"  said  Paul  Tennant.  "Poor  Ferdie 
dead  ?  Never !" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  125 

Eve  had  knelt  down  ;  she  was  chafing  Cicely's 
temples.  "Then  you  care  for  him  very  much?" 
she  asked,  looking  at  him  for  a  moment  over  her 
shoulder. 

"  I  care  for  him  more  than  for  anything  else  in 
the  world,"  said  the  brother,  shortly. 


XIII. 

IT  was  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day. 

"I  shall  go,  grandpa,"  said  Cicely;  "I  shall  go 
to-night.  There's  a  boat,  somebody  said." 

"But,  my  dear  child,  listen  to  reason;  Sabrina 
does  not  say  that  he  is  in  danger." 

"  And  she  does  not  say  that  he  is  out  of  it." 

The  judge  took  up  the  letter  again,  and,  putting 
on  his  glasses,  he  read  aloud,  with  a  frown  of  atten 
tion  :  "  '  For  the  first  two  days  Dr.  Daniels  came 
over  twice  a  day  ' 

"  You  see  ? — twice  a  day,"  said  Cicely. 

— "  '  But  as  he  is  beginning  to  feel  his  age,  the 
crossing  so  often  in  the  row-boat  tired  him;  so  now 
he  sends  us  his  partner,  Dr.  Knox,  a  new  man  here, 
and  a  very  intelligent  person,  I  should  judge.  Dr. 
Knox  comes  over  every  afternoon  and  spends  the 
night '  "— 

"  You  see? — spends  the  night,"  said  Cicely. 

— "  '  Going  back  early  the  following  morning. 
He  has  brought  us  a  nurse,  an  excellent  and  skilful 
young  man,  and  now  we  can  have  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  our  poor  Ferdie  has  every  possible  at 
tention.  As  I  write,  the  fever  is  going  down,  and 
the  nurse  tells  me  that  by  to-morrow,  or  day  after 


126  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

to-morrow,  he  will  probably  be  able  to  speak  to  us, 
to  talk.' " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  how  many  dayte  it  will  take 
me  to  get  there,"  said  Cicely,  beginning  to  count 
upon  her  fingers.  "Four  days — or  is  it  three? — to 
Cleveland,  where  I  take  the  train;  then  how  many 
hours  from  there  to  Washington  ?  You  will  have 
to  make  it  out  for  me,  grandpa;  or  rather  Paul  will; 
Paul  knows  everything." 

"My  poor  little  girl,  you  haven't  had  any  rest; 
even  now  you  have  only  just  come  out  of  a  fainting 
fit.  Sabrina  will  write  every  day;  wait  at  least  un 
til  her  next  letter  comes  to-morrow  morning." 

"You  are  all  so  strange  !  Wouldn't  you  wish  me 
to  see  him  if  he  were  dying?"  Cicely  demanded,  her 
voice  growing  hard. 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  replied  the  old  man,  has 
tily.  "But  there  is  no  mention  of  dying,  Sabrina 
says  nothing  that  looks  like  it;  Daniels,  our  old 
friend — why,  Daniels  would  cross  twenty  times  a 
day  if  he  thought  there  was  danger." 

"I  can't  argue,  grandpa.  But  I  shall  go;  I  shall 
go  to-night,"  Cicely  responded. 

She  was  seated  on  a  sofa  in  Paul  Tennant's  par 
lor,  a  large  room,  furnished  with  what  the  furniture 
dealer  of  Port  aux  Pins  called  a  "  drawing-room  set." 
The  sofa  of  this  set  was  of  the  pattern  named  tete- 
a-tete,  very  hard  and  slippery,  upholstered  in  hide 
ous  green  damask.  Cicely  was  sitting  on  the  edge 
of  this  unreposeful  couch,  her  feet  close  together  on 
a  footstool,  her  arms  tight  to  her  sides  and  folded 
from  the  elbows  in  a  horizontal  position  across  the 
front  of  her  waist.  She  looked  very  rigid  and  very 
small. 


JUPITER  LIGHTS.  127 

"  But  supposing,  when  you  get  there,  that  you 
find  him  up, — well  ?"  suggested  the  judge. 

"  Shouldn't  I  be  glad  ?"  answered  Cicely,  defiant 
ly.  "  What  questions  you  ask  !" 

"  But  ice  couldn't  be  glad.  Can't  you  think  a  lit 
tle  of  us  ? — you  are  all  we  have  left  now." 

"  Aunt  Sabrina  doesn't  feel  as  you  do — if  you 
mean  Aunt  Sabrina;  she  would  be  delighted  to  have 
me  come  back.  She  likes  Ferdie;  it  is  only  you  who 
are  so  hard  about  him." 

"  Sabrina  doesn't  know.  But  supposing  it  were 
only  I,  is  my  wish  nothing  to  you  ?"  And  the  old 
man  put  out  his  hand  in  appeal. 

"  No,"  answered  Cicely,  inflexibly.  "  I  am  sorry, 
grandpa;  but  for  the  moment  it  isn't,  nothing  is 
anything  to  me  now  but  Ferdie.  And  what  is  it 
that  Aunt  Sabrina  doesn't  know,  pray?  There's 
nothing  to  know;  Ferdie  had  one  of  his  attacks — 
he  has  had  them  before— and  I  came  away  with 
Jack;  that  is  all.  Eve  has  exaggerated  everything. 
I  told  her  I  would  come  here,  come  to  Paul,  because 
Ferdie  likes  Paul;  but  I  never  intended  to  stay  for 
ever,  and  now  that  Ferdie  is  ill,  do  you  suppose  that 
I  will  wait  one  moment  longer  than  I  must  ?  Of 
course  not." 

The  door  opened  and  Eve  came  in.  Cicely  glanced 
at  her;  then  she  turned  her  eyes  away,  looking  in 
differently  at  the  whitewashed  wall. 

"  She  is  going  to  take  the  steamer  back  to-night," 
said  the  judge,  helplessly. 

"  Oh  no,  Cicely;  surely  not  to-night,"  Eve  began. 
In  spite  of  the  fatigues  of  the  journey,  Eve  had  been 
•A  changed  creature  since  morning;  there  was  in  her 
eyes  an  expression  of  deep  happiness,  which  Avas  al 
most  exaltation. 


128  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  There  is  no  use  in  explaining  anything  to  Eve, 
and  I  shall  not  try,"  replied  Cicely.  She  unfolded 
her  arms  and  rose,  still  standing,  a  rigid  little  fig 
ure,  close  to  the  sofa.  "  I  love  my  husband,  and  I 
shall  go  to  him;  what  Eve  says  is  of  no  conse 
quence,  because  she  knows  nothing  about  such 
things;  but  I  suppose  you  cared  for  grandma  once, 
didn't  you,  grandpa,  when  she  was  young  ?  and  if  she 
had  been  shot,  wouldn't  you  have  gone  to  her  ?" 

"  Cicely,  you  are  cruel,"  said  Eve. 

"  When  grandpa  thinks  so,  it  will  be  time  enough 
for  me  to  trouble  myself.  But  grandpa  doesn't 
think  so." 

"No,  no,"  said  the  old  man;  "never."  And  for 
the  moment  he  and  his  grandchild  made  common 
cause  against  the  intruder. 

Eve  felt  this,  she  stood  looking  at  them  in  si 
lence.  Then  she  said,  "  And  Jack  ?" 

"  I  shall  take  him  with  me,  of  course.  That  re 
minds  me  that  I  must  speak  to  Porley  about  his 
frocks;  Porley  is  so  stupid."  And  Cicely  turned 
towards  the  door. 

Eve  followed  her.  "  Another  long  journey  so 
soon  will  be  bad  for  Jack." 

"  There  you  go  again  !  But  I  shall  not  leave  him 
with  you,  no  matter  what  you  say;  useless,  your 
constant  asking."  She  opened  the  door.  On  the 
threshold  she  met  Paul  Tennant  coming  in. 

He  took  her  hand  and  led  her  back.  "  I  was  look 
ing  for  you;  I  have  found  a  little  bed  for  Jack;  but 
I  don't  know  that  it  will  do." 

"  You  are  very  good,  Paul,  but  Jack  will  not  need 
it.  I  am  going  away  to-night;  I  have  only  just 
learned  that  there  is  a  boat." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  129 

"  We  don't  want  to  hear  any  talk  of  boats,"  Paul 
answered.  He  drew  her  towards  the  sofa  and  placed 
her  upon  it.  "  Sit  down ;  you  look  so  tired  !" 

"I'm  not  tired;  at  least  I  do  not  feel  it.  And  I 
have  a  great  deal  to  do,  Paul;  I  must  see  about 
Jack's  frocks." 

"  Jack's  frocks  can  wait.  There's  to  be  no  jour 
ney  to-night." 

"  Yes,  there  is,"  said  Cicely,  with  a  mutinous  lit 
tle  smile.  Her  glance  turned  towards  her  grand 
father  and  Eve;  then  it  came  back  to  Paul,  who  was 
standing  before  her.  "  None  of  you  shall  keep  me," 
she  announced. 

"  You  will  obey  your  grandfather,  won't  you  ?" 
Paul  began,  seriously. 

The  judge  got  up,  rubbing  his  hands  round  each 
other. 

"  No,"  Cicely  answered;  "  not  about  this.  Grand 
pa  knows  it;  we  have  already  talked  it  over." 

"  You  are  wrong;  you  ought  not  to  be  willing  to 
make  him  so  unhappy." 

"Never  mind  about  that,  Tennant;  I'll  see  to 
that,"  said  the  judge.  He  spoke  in  a  thin  old  voice 
which  sounded  far  away. 

Paul  looked  at  him,  surprised.  Then  his  glance 
turned  towardn  Eve.  "  Miss  Bruce  too ;  I  am  sure 
she  does  not  approve  of  your  going  ?" 

"  Oh,  if  I  should  wait  for  Eve's  approval !"  said 
Cicely.  "  Eve  doesn't  approve  of  anything  in  the 
world  except  that  she  should  have  Jack,  and  take 
him  away  with  her,  Heaven  knows  where.  She 
hasn't  any  feelings  as  other  people  have;  she  has 
never  cared  for  anybody  excepting  herself,  and  her 
brother,  and  I  dare  say  that  when  she  had  him  she 
9 


130  .  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

tried  to  rule  him,  as  she  tries  ncr.v  to  rule  me  and 
every  one.  She  is  jealous  about  him,  and  that  makes 
her  hate  Ferdie:  perhaps  you  don't  know  that  she 
hates  Ferdie?  She  does;  she  was  sorry  this  morn 
ing,  absolutely  sorry,  when  she  heard  that,  though 
he  was  dreadfully  hurt,  he  wasn't  dead." 

"  Oh,  Cicely  !"  said  Eve.  She  turned  away  and 
walked  towards  one  of  the  windows,  her  face  cov 
ered  by  her  hands. 

Paul's  eyes  followed  her.  Then  they  came  back 
to  Cicely.  "  Very  well,  then,  since  it  appears  to  be 
left  to  me,  I  must  tell  you  plainly  that  you  cannot 
go  to-night;  we  shall  not  allow  it." 

"  We  !"  ejaculated  Cicely.     "  Who  are  we  ?" 

"  I,  then,  if  you  like — I  alone," 

"  What  can  you  do?  I  am  free;  no  one  has  any 
authority  over  me  except  Ferdie."  Paul  did  not  re 
ply.  "  You  will  scarcely  attempt  to  keep  me  by 
force,  I  suppose  ?"  she  went  on. 

"  If  necessary,  yes.    But  it  will  not  be  necessary." 

"  Grandpa  would  never  permit  it.  Grandpa  ?" 
She  summoned  him  to  her  side  with  an  imperious 
gesture. 

The  old  man  came  towards  her  a  step  or  two. 
Then  he  left  the  room  hurriedly. 

Cicely  watched  him  go,  with  startled  eyes.  But 
she  recovered  herself,  and  looked  at  Paul  undaunted. 

"  Why  do  you  treat  me  so,  Cicely  ?"  he  said.  "  I 
care  about  Ferdie  as  much  as  you  do;  I  have  always 
cared  about  him, — hasn't  he  ever  told  you  ?  There 
never  were  two  boys  such  chums;  and  although,  since 
he  has  grown  up,  he  has  had  others,  I  have  never  had 
any  one  but  him;  I  haven't  wanted  any  one.  Is  it 
likely,  then,  that  I  should  try  to  set  you  against 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  131 

him  ? — that  I  should  turn  against  him  myself  ? — I 
ask  you  that." 

"It  is  setting  me  against  him  not  to  let  me  go  to 
him.  How  do  we  know  that  he  is  not  dying  ?"  Her 
voice  was  quiet  and  hard. 

"  We  know  because  the  letters  do  not  speak  of 
danger;  on  the  contrary,  they  tell  us  that  the  ball 
has  been  extracted,  and  that  the  fever  is  going  down, 
lie  will  get  well.  And  then  some  measures  must  be 
taken  before  you  can  go  back  to  him;  otherwise  it 
would  not  be  safe." 

"And  do  I  care  about  safe  ?  I  should  like  to  die 
if  he  did!"  cried  Cicely,  passionately.  She  looked 
like  a  hunted  creature  at  bay. 

"And  your  child;  what  is  your  idea  about  him?" 

"  That's  it ;  take  up  Eve's  cry — do  !  You  know  I 
will  never  give  up  baby,  and  so  you  both  say  that." 
She  sank  down  on  the  sofa,  her  head  on  her  arms, 
her  face  hidden. 

Her  little  figure  lying  there  looked  so  desolate 
that  Eve  hurried  forward  from  the  window.  Then 
she  stopped,  she  felt  that  Cicely  hated  her. 

"  I  say  what  I  think  will  influence  you,"  Paul  was 
answering.  "Ferdie  has  already  thrown  the  boy 
about  once;  he  may  do  it  again.  Of  course  at  such 
times  he  is  not  responsible;  but  these  times  are  in 
creasing,  and  he  must  be  brought  up  short;  he  must 
be  brought  to  his  senses."  He  went  to  the  sofa,  sat 
down  beside  her,  and  lifted  her  in  his  arms.  "  My 
poor  little  sister,  do  trust  me.  Ferdie  docs;  he  wrote 
to  me  himself  about  that  dreadful  time,  that  first 
time  when  he  hurt  you;  isn't  that  a  proof?  I  will 
show  you  the  letter  if  you  like." 

"I  don't  want  to  see  it.    Ferdie  and  I  never  speak 


132  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

of  those  things;  there  has  never  been  an  allusion  to 
them  between  us,"  replied  Cicely,  proudly. 

"I  can  understand  that.  You  are  his  wife,  and  I 
arn  only  his  big  brother,  to  whom  he  has  always  told 
everything."  He  placed  her  beside  him  on  the  sofa, 
with  his  arm  still  round  her.  "Didn't  you  know 
that  we  still  tell  each  other  everything, — have  all  in 
common  ?  I  have  been  the  slow  member  of  the  firm, 
as  one  may  say,  and  so  I've  stayed  along  here;  but  I 
have  always  known  Avhat  Ferdie  was  about,  and 
have  been  interested  in  his  schemes  as  much  as  he 
was." 

"Yes,  he  told  me  that  you  gave  him  the  money 
for  South  America,"  said  Cicely,  doubtfully. 

"That  South  American  investment  was  his  own 
idea,  and  he  deserves  all  the  credit  of  it;  he  will 
make  it  a  success  yet.  See  here,  Cicely:  at  the  first 
intimation  that  he  is  worse,  I  should  go  down  there 
myself  as  fast  as  boat  and  train  could  carry  me;  I've 
telegraphed  to  that  Dr.  Knox  to  keep  me  informed 
exactly,  and,  if  there  should  be  any  real  danger,  I 
will  take  you  to  him  instantly.  But  I  feel  certain 
that  he  will  recover.  And  tlien  Ave  must  cure  him. 
in  another  way.  The  trouble  with  Ferdie  is  that  he 
is  sure  that  he  can  stop  at  any  moment,  and,  being 
so  sure,  he  has  never  really  tried.  The  thing  has 
been  on  him  almost  from  a  boy,  he  inherits  it  from 
his  father.  But  he  has  such  a  will,  he  is  so  brill 
iant — " 

"Oh,  yes  !  isn't  he?"  said  Cicely,  breathlessly. 

— "  That  he  has  never  considered  himself  in  dan 
ger,  in  spite  of  these  lapses.  Now  there  is  where  we 
must  get  hold  of  him — we  must  open  his  eyes;  and 
that  is  going  to  be  the  hard  point,  the  hard  work,  in 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  133 

which,  first  of  all,  you  must  help.  But  once  he  is 
convinced,  once  the  thing  is  done,  then,  Cicely, 
then  "— 

"Yes,  then?" 

— "  He  will  be  about  as  perfect  a  fellow  as  the 
world  holds,  I  think,"  said  Paul,  with  quiet  enthusi 
asm.  He  stooped  and  kissed  her  cheek.  "  I  want 
you  to  believe  that  I  love  him,"  he  added,  simply. 

He  got  up,  smiling  down  upon  her, — "Now  will 
you  be  a  good  girl?"  he  said,  as  though  she  were  a 
child. 

"  I  will  wait  until  to-morrow,"  Cicely  answered, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation. 

"  Come,  that's  a  concession,"  said  Paul,  applaud 
ingly.  "And  now  won't  you  do  something  else  that 
will  please  me  very  much  ? — won't  you  go  straight 
to  bed  ?" 

"A  small  thing  to  please  you  with,"  Cicely  an 
swered,  without  a  smile  ;  "I  will  go  if  you  wish.  I 
should  like  to  have  you  know,  Paul,  that  I  came  to 
you  of  my  own  choice,"  she  went  on;  "I  came  to 
you  when  I  would  not  go  anywhere  else;  Eve  will 
tell  you  so." 

"  Yes,"  assented  Eve  from  her  place  by  the  win 
dow. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  had  some  confidence,"  Paul 
responded;  "I  must  try  to  give  you  more.  And 
now  who  will — who  will  see  to  you?  Does  that 
wool-headed  girl  of  yours  know  anything?" 

lie  looked  so  anxious  as  he  said  this  that  Cicely 
broke  into  a  faint  laugh.  "I  haven't  lost  my  mind; 
I  can  see  to  myself." 

"  But  I  thought  you  Southerners —  However, 
Miss  Bruce  will  help  you."  He  looked  at  Eve. 


134  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  I  am  afraid  Cicely  is  tired  of  me,"  Eve  answered, 
coming  forward.  "  All  the  same,  I  know  how  to 
take  care  of  her." 

"Yes,  she  took  care  of  me  all  the  way  here,"  re 
marked  Cicely,  looking  at  Eve  coldly.  "She  needs 
to  be  taken  care  of  herself,"  she  went  on,  in  a  dis 
passionate  voice ;  "  she  has  hardly  closed  her  eyes 
since  we  started." 

"  I  feel  perfectly  well,"  Eve  answered,  the  color 
rushing  to  her  face  in  a  brilliant  flush. 

"  I  don't  think  we  need  borrow  any  trouble  about 
Miss  Bruce,  she  looks  the  image  of  health,"  observed 
Paul  (but  not  as  though  he  admired  the  image).  "  I 
am  afraid  your  bedrooms  are  not  very  large,"  he 
went  on,  again  perturbed.  "  There  are  two,  side  by 
side." 

"  Cicely  shall  have  one  to  herself;  Jack  and  I  will 
take  the  other,"  said  Eve. 

"Where  is  Jack?"  demanded  Cicely,  suddenly. 
"What  have  you  done  with  him,  Eve?" 

Paul  opened  the  door.  "Polly!"  he  cried,  in  a 
voice  that  could  have  been  heard  from  garret  to  cel 
lar.  Porley,  amazed  by  the  sound,  came  running  in, 
with  Jack  in  her  arms.  Paul  looked  at  her  dubi 
ously,  shook  his  head,  and  went  out. 

Cicely  took  her  child,  and  began  to  play  all  his 
games  with  him  feverishly,  one  after  the  other. 

Jack  was  delighted  ;  he  played  with  all  his  little 
heart. 


XIV. 

FOUR  days  had  passed  slowly  by.    "  What  do  you 
think,  judge,  of  this  theory  about  the  shooting, — the 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  135 

one  they  believe  at  Romney?"  said  Paul,  on  the 
fifth  morning. 

"  It's  probable  enough.  Niggers  are  constitution 
ally  timid,  and  they  always  have  pistols  nowadays; 
these  two  boys,  it  seems,  had  come  over  from  the 
mainland  to  hide ;  they  had  escaped  from  a  lock-up, 
got  a  boat  somewhere  and  crossed;  that  much  is 
known.  Your  brother,  perhaps,  went  wandering 
about  the  island  ;  if  he  came  upon  them  suddenly, 
with  that  knife  in  his  hand,  like  as  not  they  fired." 

"  Ferdie  was  found  lying  very  near  the  point 
where  your  boat  was  kept." 

"And  the  niggers  might  have  been  hidden  just 
there.  But  I  don't  think  we  can  tell  exactly  where 
our  boat  was;  Cicely  doesn't  remember — I  have  asked 
her." 

"  Miss  Bruce  may  have  clearer  ideas." 

"  No ;  Eve  seems  to  have  a  greater  confusion 
about  it  than  Cicely  even;  she  cannot  speak  of  it 
clearly  at  all." 

"  Yes,  I  have  noticed  that,"  said  Paul. 

"I  suppose  it  is  because,  at  the  last,  she  had  it  all 
to  do;  she  is  a  brave  woman." 

Paul  was  silent. 

"Don't  you  think  so?"  said  the  judge. 

"  I  wasn't  there.     I  don't  know  what  she  did." 

"You're  all  alike,  you  young  men;  she's  too  much 
for  you,"  said  the  judge,  with  a  chuckle. 

"Why  too  much?  She  seems  to  me  very  glurn 
and  shy.  When  you  say  that  we  are  all  alike,  do 
you  mean  that  Ferdie  didn't  admire  her,  either? 
Yet  Ferdie  is  liberal  in  his  tastes,"  said  the  elder 
brother,  smiling. 

But  the  judge  did  not  want  to  talk  about  Ferdie. 


136  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"So  you  find  her  shy?  She  did  not  strike  us  so  at 
Romuey.  Quiet  enough — yes.  But  very  decidedly 
liking  to  have  her  own  way." 

Paul  dismissed  the  subject.  "  I  suppose  those 
two  scamps,  who  shot  him,  got  safely  away  ?" 

"  Yes,  they  were  sure  to  have  run  off  on  the  in 
stant;  they  had  the  boat  they  came  over  in,  and  be 
fore  daylight  they  were  miles  to  the  southward 
probably;  I  dare  say  they  made  for  one  of  the 
swamps.  In  the  old  days  we  could  have  tracked 
them ;  but  it's  not  so  easy  now.  And  even  if  we  got 
them  we  couldn't  string  them  up." 

"  You  wouldn't  hang  them  ?" 

"  By  all  the  gods,  I  would  !"  said  the  planter, 
bringing  his  fist  down  upon  the  table  with  a  force 
that  belonged  to  his  youth. 

"  Ferdie  may  have  attacked  them  first,  you  know." 

"What  difference  does  that  make?  Damnation, 
sir !  are  they  to  be  allowed  to  fire  upon  their  mas 
ters?" 

"They  did  not  fire  very  well,  these  two;  accord 
ing  to  Dr.  Knox,  the  wound  is  not  serious ;  his  de 
spatch  this  morning  says  that  Ferdie  is  coming  on 
admirably." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  is,"  said  the  old  man,  relapsing 
into  gloom. 

"  As  soon  as  he  is  up  and  about,  I  am  going  down 
there,"  Paul  went  on;  "I  must  see  him  and  have  a 
serious  talk.  Some  new  measures  must  be  taken. 
I  don't  think  it  will  be  difficult  when  I  have  once 
made  him  see  his  danger;  he  is  so  extraordinarily 
intelligent." 

"  I  wish  he  were  dull,  then, — dull  as  an  owl !"  said 
the  judge,  with  a  long  sigh. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  137 

"  Yes,  regarded  simply  as  husbands,  I  dare  say  the 
dull  may  be  safer,"  responded  Paul.  "  But  you 
must  excuse  me  if  I  cannot  look  upon  Ferdie  merely 
as  the  husband  of  your  daughter;  I  expect  great 
things  of  him  yet." 

"  Granddaughter.  If  her  father  had  lived — my 
boy  Duke — it  would  have  been  another  story;  Duke 
wouldn't  have  been  a  broken  old  man  like  me." 
And  the  judge  leaned  his  head  upon  his  hand. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir;  don't  mind  my  rough 
ness.  It's  only  that  I'm  fond  of  Ferdie,  and  proud 
of  him;  he  has  but  that  one  fault.  But  I  appreciate 
how  you  feel  about  Cicely;  we  must  work  together 
for  them  both." 

Paul  had  risen,  and  was  standing  before  him  with 
outstretched  hand.  "Thank  you;  you  mean  well," 
said  the  judge.  He  had  let  his  hand  be  taken,  but 
he  did  not  look  up.  He  felt  that  he  could  never 
really  like  this  man — never. 

"I  am  to  understand,  then,  that  you  approve  of 
my  plan?"  Paul  went  on,  after  a  short  silence. 
"  Cicely  to  stay  here  for  the  present — the  house,  I 
hope,  is  fairly  comfortable — and  then,  when  Ferdie 
is  better,  I  to  go  down  there  and  see  what  I  can  do; 
I  have  every  hope  of  doing  a  great  deal !  Oh,  yes, 
there's  one  more  thing;  you  needn't  feel  obliged  to 
stay  here  any  longer  than  you  want  to,  you  know;  I 
can  see  to  Cicely.  Apparently,  too,  Miss  Bruce  has 
no  intention  of  leaving  her." 

"I  shall  stay,  sir — I  shall  stay." 

"  On  my  own  account,  I  hope  you  will ;  I  only 
meant  that  you  needn't  feel  that  you  must;  I  thought 
perhaps  there  was  something  that  called  you  home." 

"  Calls  me  home  ?     Do  you  suppose  we  do  any- 


138  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

thing  down  there  nowadays  with  the  whole  coast 
ruined  ?  As  for  the  house,  Sabrina  is  there,  and 
women  like  illness;  they  absolutely  dote  on  medi 
cines,  and  doctors,  and  ghastly  talking  in  whispers." 

"Very  well;  I  only  hope  you  won't  find  it  dull, 
that's  all.  The  mine  isn't  bad;  you  might  come  out 
there  occasionally.  And  the  steamers  stop  two  or 
three  times  a  day.  There's  a  good  deal  going  on  in 
the  town,  too;  building's  lively." 

"I  am  much  obliged  to  you." 

"  But  you  don't  cai'e  for  liveliness,"  pursued  Paul, 
with  a  smile.  "  I  am  afraid  there  isn't  much  else.  I 
haven't  many  books,  but  Kit  Hollis  has;  he  is  the 
man  for  you.  Queer;  never  can  decide  anything; 
always  beating  round  the  bush  ;  still,  in  his  way, 
tremendously  well  read  and  clever." 

"He  appears  to  be  a  kind  of  dry-nurse  to  you," 
said  the  judge,  rising. 

Paul  laughed,  showing  his  white  teeth.  He  was 
very  good-natured,  his  guest  had  already  discovered 
that. 

The  judge  was  glad  that  their  conversation  had 
come  to  an  end.  lie  could  no  longer  endure  dwell 
ing  upon  sorrow.  Trouble  was  not  over  for  them 
by  any  means ;  their  road  looked  long  and  dark 
before  them.  But  for  the  moment  Cicely  and  her 
child  were  safe  under  this  roof;  let  them  enjoy  that 
and  have  a  respite.  As  for  himself,  he  could — well, 
he  could  enjoy  the  view. 

The  view  consisted  of  the  broad  lake  in  front,  and 
the  deep  forest  which  stretched  unbroken  towards  the 
east  and  the  west.  The  water  of  the  lake  was  fresh, 
the  great  forest  was  primeval;  this  made  the  effect 
very  unlike  that  of  the  narrow  salt-water  sounds,  and 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  139 

the  chain  of  islands,  large  and  small,  with  their  gar 
dens  and  old  fields.  The  South  had  forgotten  her  be 
ginnings  ;  but  here  one  could  see  what  all  the  new 
world  had  once  been,  here  one  could  see  traces  of 
the  first  struggle  for  human  existence  with  the  inert 
forces  of  nature.  With  other  forces,  too,  for  Indians 
still  lived  here.  They  were  few  in  number,  harmless; 
but  they  carried  the  mind  back  to  the  time  of  sud 
den  alarms  and  the  musket  laid  ready  to  the  hand; 
the  days  of  the  block-house  and  the  guarded  well, 
the  high  stockade.  The  old  planter  as  he  walked 
about  did  not  think  of  these  things.  The  rough  for 
est  was  fit  only  for  rough-living  pioneers;  the  Indians 
were  but  another  species  of  nigger;  the  virgin  air 
was  thin  and  raw, — he  preferred  something  more 
thick,  more  civilized;  the  great  fresh-water  sea  was 
abominably  tame,  no  one  could  possibly  admire  it; 
Port  aux  Pins  itself  was  simply  hideous  ;  it  was  a 
place  composed  entirely  of  beginnings  and  mud,  talk 
and  ambition,  the  sort  of  place  which  the  Yankees 
produced  wherever  they  went,  and  which  they  loved; 
that  in  itself  described  it ;  how  could  a  Southern 
gentleman  like  what  they  loved? 

And  Port  aux  Pins  was  ugly.  Its  outlying  quar 
ters  were  still  in  the  freshly  plucked  state,  deplumed, 
scarred,  with  roadways  half  laid  out,  with  shanties 
and  wandering  pigs,  discarded  tin  cans  and  other 
refuse,  and  everywhere  stumps,  stumps.  Within  the 
town  there  were  one  or  two  streets  where  stood 
smart  wooden  houses  with  Mansard-roofs.  But 
these  were  elbowed  by  others  much  less  smart,  and 
they  were  hustled  by  the  scaffolding  of  the  new  man 
sions  -which  were  rising  on  all  sides,  and,  with  re 
publican  freedom,  taking  whatever  room  they  found 


140  JUPITEE   LIGHTS. 

convenient  during  the  process.  Even  those  abodes 
which  were  completed  as  to  their  exteriors  had  a 
look  of  not  being  fully  furnished,  a  blank,  wide-eyed, 
unwinking  expression  across  their  fa£ades  which  told 
of  bare  iloors  and  echoing  spaces  within.  Always 
they  had  temporary  fences.  Often  paths  of  mov 
able  planks  led  up  to  the  entrance.  Day  after  day 
a  building  of  some  sort  was  voyaging  through  Port 
aux  Pins  streets  by  means  of  a  rope  and  windlass,  a 
horse,  and  men  with  boards  ;  when  it  rained,  the 
house  stopped  and  remained  where  it  was,  waiting 
for  the  mud  to  dry ;  meanwhile  the  roadway  was 
blocked.  But  nobody  minded  that.  All  these 
things,  the  all-pervading  beginnings,  the  jokes  and 
slang,  the  smell  of  paint,  and  always  the  breathless 
constant  hurry,  were  hateful  to  the  old  Georgian. 
It  might  have  been  said,  perhaps,  that  between 
houses  and  a  society  uncomfortable  from  age,  falling 
to  pieces  from  want  of  repairs,  and  houses  and  a 
society  uncomfortable  from  youth,  unfurnished,  and 
encumbered  with  scaffolding,  there  was  not  much 
to  choose.  But  the  judge  did  not  think  so;  to  his 
mind  there  was  a  great  deal  to  choose. 

As  the  days  passed,  Christopher  Ilollis  became 
more  and  more  his  companion;  the  judge  grew  into 
the  habit  of  expecting  to  see  his  high  head,  topped 
Avith  a  silk  hat,  put  stealthily  through  the  crevice  of 
the  half-open  door  of  Paul's  dining-room  (Ilollis 
never  opened  a  door  widely;  whether  coming  in  or 
going  out,  he  always  squeezed  himself  through), 
with  the  query,  "  Hello  !  What's  up  ?"  There  was 
never  anything  up;  but  the  judge,  sitting  there  for 
lornly,  with  no  companion  but  the  local  newspaper 
(which  he  loathed),  was  glad  to  welcome  his  queer 


JUriTEIl    LIGHTS.  141 

guest.  Generally  they  went  out  together;  Port  aux 
Pins  people  grew  accustomed  to  seeing  them  walking 
down  to  the  end  first  of  one  pier,  then  of  the  other, 
strolling  among  the  stumps  in  the  suburbs,  or  sitting 
<>n  the  pile  of  planks  which  adorned  one  corner  of 
the  Public  Square,  the  long-legged,  loose-jointed  Kit 
an  amusing  contrast  to  the  small,  precise  figure  by 
his  side. 

"  I  say,  he's  pretty  hard  up  for  entertainment,  that 
old  gentleman  of  yours,"  announced  Hollis  one  day, 
peering  in  through  the  crevice  of  the  door  of  Paul 
Tennant's  office  in  the  town. 

"  I  depended  on  you  to  entertain  him,"  answered 
Paul  without  lifting  his  head,  which  was  bent  over 
a  ledger. 

"  Well,  I've  taken  him  all  over  the  place,  I've  pret 
ty  nearly  trotted  his  legs  off,"  Hollis  responded, 
edging  farther  in,  the  door  scraping  the  buttons  of 
his  waistcoat  as  he  did  so.  "  And  I've  shot  off  all 
my  Latin  at  him  too — all  I  can  remember.  I  read 
up  on  purpose." 

"  Is  he  such  a  scholar,  then  ?" 

"  No,  he  ain't.  But  it  does  him  good  to  hear  a 
little  Horace  in  such  an  early-in-the-morning,  ten- 
minutes-ago  place  as  this.  Sec  here,  Paul;  if  you 
keep  him  on  here  long  he  won't  stand  it — he'll  miz 
zle  out.  He'll  simply  die  of  Potterpins." 

"  I'm  not  keeping  him.  He  stays  of  his  own  ac 
cord." 

"  I  don't  believe  it.  But,  I  say,  ain't  he  a  regular 
old  despot  though  !  You  ought  to  hear  him  hold 
forth  sometimes." 

"  /don't  want  to  hear  him." 

"Well,  I  guess  he  don't  talk  that  way  to  you,  on 
the  whole.  Not  much,"  said  Hollis,  jocularly. 


142  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

And  Paul  Tennant  did  not  look  like  a  man  who 
would  be  a  comfortable  companion  for  persons  of 
the  aggressive  temperament.  He  was  tall  and  broad- 
shouldered;  not  graceful  like  Ferdie,  but  powerful. 
His  neck  was  rather  short;  the  lower  part  of  his  facA 
was  strong  and  firm.  His  features  were  good;  his 
eyes,  keen,  gray  in  hue.  His  hair  was  yellow  and 
thick,  and  he  had  a  moustache  and  short  beard  of  the 
same  yellow  hue.  No  one  would  have  called  him 
handsome  exactly.  There  was  something  of  the 
Scandinavian  in  his  appearance;  nothing  of  the  Ger 
man.  His  manner,  compared  with  Ferdie's  quick, 
light  brilliancy,  was  quiet,  his  speech  slow. 

"  Have  you  been  thinking  about  that  proposition 
— that  sale?"  Hollis  went  on. 

"  Yes." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

"  It's  done.     I've  declined." 

"  What !  not  already  ?     That's  sudden,  ain't  it  ?" 

Paul  did  not  answer;  he  was  adding  figures. 

"  Have  you  been  over  the  reasons  ? — weighed  'em  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  leave  the  reasons  to  you,"  said  Paul,  turn 
ing  a  page. 

Hollis  gave  his  almost  silent  laugh.  But  he  gave 
it  uneasily.  "  Positively  declined?  Letter  gone ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh ;  well  !"  He  waited  a  moment;  then,  as  Paul 
did  not  speak,  he  opened  the  door  and  edged  him 
self  out  without  a  sound. 

Ten  minutes  later  his  head  reappeared  with  the 
same  stealth.  "  Oh,  I  thought  I'd  just  tell  you— 
perhaps  you  don't  know — the  mail  -doesn't  go  out 
to-day  until  five  o'clock:  you  can  get  that  letter 
back  if  you  like." 


JL'PITER    LIGHTS.  143 

"I  don't  want  it  back." 

"Oh;  well."     He  was  gone  again. 

Outside  in  the  street  he  saw  the  judge  wandering 
by,  and  stopped  him.  "  That  there  son-in-law  of 
yours — "  he  began. 

•/ 

"Son-in-law  ?"  inquired  the  judge,  stiffly. 

"  Whatever  pleases  you;  step-sister." 

"Mr.  Tennant  is  the  half-brother  of  the  husband 
of  my  granddaughter." 

"  "T  any  rate,  that  man  in  there,  that  Paul,  he's  so 
tremenjously  rash  there's  no  counting  on  him;  if 
there's  anything  to  do  he  goes  and  does  it  right 
spang  off  without  a  why  or  a  wherefore.  He  abso 
lutely  seems  to  have  no  reasons  ! — not  a  rease  !" 

"  I  cannot  agree  with  you.  To  me  Mr.  Tennant 
seems  to  have  a  great  many." 

"  But  you  haven't  heard  about  this.  Come  along 
out  to  the  Park  for  a  walk,  and  I'll  tell  you." 

He  moved  on.  But  the  judge  did  not  accompany 
him.  A  hurrying  mulatto,  a  waiter  from  one  of  the 
steamers,  had  jostled  him  off  the  narrow  plank  side 
walk;  at  the  same  moment  a  buggy  which  was  pass 
ing,  driven  at  a  reckless  speed,  spattered  him  with 
mud  from  shoulder  to  shoe. 

"Never  mind,  come  on;  it  '11  dry  while  you're 
walking,"  suggested  Hollis  from  the  corner  where 
he  was  waiting. 

The  judge  stepped  back  to  the  planks  ;  he  sur 
veyed  his  befouled  person;  then  he  brought  out  a 
resounding  expletive — half  a  dozen  of  them. 

"  Do  it  again — if  it  '11  ease  you  off,"  called  Kit, 
grinning.  "  When  you're  blessing  Potterpins,  I'm 
with  you  every  time." 

The  judge  rapped  the  planks  with  his  cane.  "  Go 
on,  sir  !  go  on  !"  he  said,  violently. 


144  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Hollis  went  loafing  on.  And  presently  the  judge 
caught  up  with  him,  and  trotted  beside  him  in  si 
lence. 

"  Well,  that  Paul  now,  as  I  was  telling  you,  I  don't 
know  what  to  make  of  him,"  said  Hollis,  returning 
to  his  topic.  "I  think  I  know  him,  and  then,  sud 
denly  he  stumps  me.  Once  he  has  made  up  his  mind 
to  anything — and  it  does  not  take  long — off  he  goes 
and  does  it,  I  tell  you  !  He  does  it." 

"I  don't  know  what  he  does;  his  conversation  has 
a  good  deal  of  the  sledge-hammer  about  it,"  re 
marked  the  judge. 

"  So  it  has,"  responded  Hollis,  delighted  with  the 
comparison;  he  was  so  delighted  that  he  stopped 
and  slapped  his  thigh.  "  So  it  has,  by  George  ! — 
convincing  and  knock -you -down."  The  judge 
walked  on.  He  had  intended  no  compliment.  "To 
day,  now,  that  fellow  has  gone  and  sent  off  a  letter 
that  he  ought  to  have  taken  six  months  to  think 
over,"  Hollis  continued.  "  Told  you  about  his  Clay 
County  iron  ?" 

"No." 

"  Well,  he  was  down  there  on  business — in  Clay 
County.  It  was  several  years  ago.  He  had  to  go 
across  the  country,  and  the  roads  were  awful — full 
of  slew-holes.  At  last,  tired  of  being  joggled  to 
pieces,  he  got  out  and  walked  along  the  fields,  leaving 
the  horse  to  bring  the  buggy  through  the  mud  as 
well  as  he  could.  By-and-by  he  saw  a  stone  that 
didn't  look  quite  like  the  others,  and  he  gave  it  a 
kick.  Still  it  didn't  look  quite  like,  so  he  picked  it 
up.  The  long  and  short  of  it  was  that  it  turned  out 
to  be  hematite  iron,  and  off  he  went  to  the  county- 
seat  and  entered  as  much  of  the  land  as  he  could  af- 


JUP1TEK    LIGHTS.  145 

ford  to  buy.  He  hasn't  any  capital,  so  he  has  never 
been  able  to  work  it  himself;  all  his  savings  he  has 
invested  in  something  or  other  in  South  America. 
But  the  other  day  he  had  a  tip-top  offer  from  a  com 
pany  ;  they  wanted  to  buy  the  whole  thing  in  a 
lump.  And  thciCs  the  chance  he  has  refused  this 
identical  morning  !"  The  judge  did  not  reply. 
"  More  iron  may  be  discovered  near  by,"  you  know, 
Hollis  went  on,  warningly,  his  forefinger  out.  His 
companion  still  remained  silent.  "  He  may  never 
have  half  so  good  an  offer  in  his  whole  life  again!" 

They  had  now  reached  the  Park,  a  dreary  enclos 
ure  where  small  evergreens  had  been  set  out  here 
and  there,  together  with  rock-work,  and  a  fountain 
which  did  not  play.  The  magnificent  forest  trees 
which  had  once  covered  the  spot  had  all  been  felled; 
infant  elms,  swathed  in  rags  and  tied  to  whitewashed 
stakes,  were  expected  to  give  shade  in  fifteen  or 
twenty  years.  There  were  no  benches;  IIoll is  seated 
himself  on  the  top  of  a  rail-fence  which  bordered 
the  slight  descent  to  the  beach  of  the  lake;  the  heels 
of  his  boots,  caught  on  a  rail  below,  propped  him, 
and  sent  his  knees  forward  at  an  acute  angle. 

"  There  were  all  sorts  of  side  issues  and  possi 
bilities  which  that  fellow  ought  to  have  considered," 
he  pursued,  ruminatively,  his  mind  still  on  Paul's 
refusal.  "There  were  other  things  that  might  have 
come  of  it.  It  was  an  A  number  one  chance  for  a 
fortune."  The  judge  did  not  answer.  "For  a  for 
tune,"  repeated  Hollis,  dreamily,  gazing  down  at  him 
from  his  perch.  No  reply.  "  A/br-chun!" 

"Da-a-a-m  your  fortune!"  said  the  judge,  at  the 
end  of  his  patience,  bringing  out  the  first  word  with 
a  long  emphasis,  like  a  low  growl  from  a  bull-dog. 
10 


146  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Hollis  stared.  Then  he  gave  his  silent  laugh,  and, 
stretching  down  one  long  arm,  he  laid  it  on  the  old 
man's  shoulder  soothingly.  "  There,  now  ;  we  are 
awful  Yankees  up  here,  all  of  us,  I'm  afraid;  forever 
thinking  of  bargains.  Fact  is,  we  ain't  high-minded ; 
you  can't  be,  if  you  are  forever  eating  salt  pork." 
The  judge  had  pulled  himself  from  the  other's 
touch  in  an  instant.  But  Hollis  remained  uncon 
scious  of  any  offence. 

"  'At  the  battle  of  the  Nile  I  was  there  all  tlic  while; 

I  was  there  all  tlie  while  at  the  battle  of  the  Nile.' " 
he  chanted. 

"  '  At  the  bat — ' 

"  Hello,  isn't  that  Miss  Bruce  coming  down  the 
beach  ?  Yes,  sure-ly  ;  I  know  her  by  the  way  she 
carries  her  head."  Detaching  his  boot-heels  from 
the  rail,  he  sprang  down,  touching  the  ground  with 
his  long  legs  wide  apart;  then,  giving  his  waistcoat 
a  pull  over  the  flatness  below  it,  he  looked  inquir 
ingly  at  the  judge. 

But  that  gentleman  ignored  the  inquiry.  "  It  is 
time  to  return,  I  reckon,"  he  remarked,  leading  the 
way  inflexibly  towards  the  distant  gate  and  the  road. 

Hollis  followed  him  with  disappointed  tread. 
"  She  won't  think  us  very  polite,  skooting  off  in  this 
fashion,"  he  hazarded. 

The  judge  vouchsafed  him  no  reply.  It  was  one 
thing  for  this  backwoodsman  to  go  about  with  him; 
it  was  another  to  aspire  to  an  acquaintance  with  the 
ladies  of  his  family.  Poor  Hollis  aspired  to  noth 
ing;  he  was  the  most  modest  of  men;  all  the  same 
it  would  never  have  occurred  to  him  that  he  was  not 
on  an  equality  with  everybody.  They  returned  to 
Port  aux  Pins  by  the  road. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  147 

The  beach  was  in  sight  all  the  way  on  the  left; 
Eve's  figure  in  three-quarter  length  was  visible 
whenever  Ilollis  turned  his  head  in  that  direction, 
which  was  often.  She  gained  on  them.  Then  she 
passed  them. 

"  She's  a  tip-top  walker,  isn't  she  ?  I  see  her  com 
ing  in  almost  every  day  from  'way  out  somewhere 
— she  doesn't  mind  how  far.  Our  ladies  here  don't 
walk  much;  they  don't  seem  to  find  it  interesting. 
But  Miss  Bruce,  now — she  says  the  woods  are  beau 
tiful.  Can't  say  I  have  found  'em  so  myself." 

"  Have  you  had  any  new  cases  lately  ?"  inquired 
the  judge,  coldly. 

"Did  that  Paul  tell  you  I  was  a  lawyer?  Was 
once,  but  have  given  up  practising.  I've  got  an 
Auction  and  Commission  store  now;  never  took  you 
there  because  business  hasn't  been  flourishing;  some 
times  for  days  together  there's  been  nothing  but  the 
skeleton."  The  judge  looked  at  him.  "  I  don't 
mean  myself  !  Say,  now,  did  you  really  think  I 
meant  myself  ?"  And  he  laughed  without  a  sound. 
"No,  this  is  a  real  one;  it  was  left  with  me  over  a 
year  ago  to  be  sold  on  commission — medical  stu 
dents,  or  a  college,  you  know.  Man  never  came 
back — perhaps  he's  a  skeleton  himself  in  the  lake 
somewhere — so  there  it  hangs  still;  first-class,  and 
in  elegant  condition.  To-day  there  are  six  bonnets 
to  keep  it  company;  so  we're  full." 

They  were  now  entering  the  town.  Presently,  at 
a  corner,  they  came  suddenly  upon  Eve;  she  was 
waiting  for  them.  "  I  saw  you  walking  in  from  the 
Park,  so  I  came  across  to  join  you,"  she  said. 

Ilollis  showed  his  satisfaction  by  a  broad  smile; 
he  did  not  raise  his  hat,  but,  extracting  one  of  his 


148  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

hands  from  the  depths  of  his  trousers  pocket,  he 
offered  it  frankly.  "You  don't  mind  a  longish 
walk,  do  you  ?  You  look  splendid." 

"  We  need  not  take  you  further,  Mr.  Ilollis,"  said 
the  judge.  "Your  time  must  be  valuable  to  you." 

"Not  a  bit;  there's  no  demand  to-day  for  the 
bonnets — unless  the  skeleton  wants  to  wear  'em." 

"  Is  it  an  exhibition  ?"  asked  Eve,  non-compre- 
hendingly. 

"It's  my  store — Auction  and  Commission.  Not 
crowded.  It's  round  the  next  corner;  want  to  go 
in  ?"  And  he  produced  a  key  and  dangled  it  at  Eve 
invitingly. 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Eve. 

It  Avas  evident  that  she  liked  to  be  with  him.  The 
judge  had  perceived  this  before  now. 

Ilollis  unlocked  a  door,  or  rather  two  doors,  for 
the  place  had  been  originally  a  wagon  shop.  A  por 
tion  of  the  space  within  was  floored,  and  here,  be 
tween  the  two  windows,  the  long  white  skeleton 
was  suspended,  moving  its  legs  a  little  in  the  sud 
den  draught. 

"  Here  are  the  bonnets,"  said  Ilollis.  "  They  may 
have  to  go  out  to  the  mines.  You  see,  it's  part  of  a 
bankrupt  stock.  Not  but  Avhat  they  ain't  first-class; 
— remarkably  so."  lie  went  to  a  table  where  stood 
six  bandboxes  in  a  row;  opening  one  of  them,  he 
took  out  a  bonnet,  and,  freeing  it  from  its  wrap 
pings,  held  it  anxiously  towards  Eve,  perched  on 
one  of  his  fingers. 

"  Are  you  trying  to  make  Miss  Bruce  buy  that 
old  rubbish  ?"  said  a  voice  at  the  door.  It  was  Paul 
Tennant's  voice. 

"Old?"  said   Hollis,  seriously.     "Why,  Paul,  I 


JUTITEK    LIGHTS.  149 

dare  say  this  here  bonnet  was  made  in  Detroit  not 
later  than  one  year  ago." 

"  If  I  cannot  buy  it  myself,"  said  Eve,  "  I  might 
take  it  out  to  the  mines  for  you,  Mr.  Ilollis,  and  sell 
it  to  the  women  there;  I  might  take  out  all  six." 
She  spoke  gayly. 

"  You'd  do  it  a  heap  better  than  I  could,"  Ilollis 
declared,  admiringly. 

"  Let  me  see,  I  can  try."  She  opened  a  bandbox 
and  took  out  a  second  bonnet.  This  she  began  to 
praise  in  very  tropical  language;  she  turned  it 
round,  now  rapidly,  now  slowly;  she  magnified  its 
ribbons,  its  general  air.  Finally,  taking  off  her 
round-hat,  she  perched  it  on  her  own  golden  bi'aids, 
and,  holding  the  strings  together  under  her  chin,  she 
said,  dramatically:  "  What  an  effect  !"  She  did  not 
smile,  but  her  eyes  shone.  She  looked  brilliant. 

The  judge  stared,  amazed.  Hollis,  contorting 
himself  like  an  angle-worm  in  his  delight,  applaud 
ed.  Paul  looked  on  tranquilly. 

"  Whatever  the  rest  of  you  may  do,  I  must  be  go 
ing,"  said  the  judge,  determinedly.  He  went  tow 
ards  the  door,  each  short  step  sounding  on  the 
planks. 

"  So  must  I,"  said  Eve.  "  Wait  until  I  put  back 
the  bonnets."  With  deft  hands  she  returned  them 
to  their  boxes,  Paul  and  Ilollis  looking  on.  Then 
they  all  went  out  together,  Ilollis  relocking  the 
door. 

"  I  was  on  my  way  home,"  said  Paul,  "  and  I  sup 
pose  you  were  too  ?  Ilollis,  won't  you  come  along?" 

lie  went  on  in  advance  with  Eve,  Hollis  following 
with  the  unwilling  judge,  whose  steps  were  still  like 
little  taps  with  a  hammer. 


150  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

The  cottage  was  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.    To 
walk  thither  took  twenty  minutes. 


XV. 

PAUL  had  succeeded  in  keeping  Cicely  tranquil  by 
a  system  of  telegraphic  despatches  and  letters,  one 
or  the  other  arriving  daily;  each  morning  Ferdie's 
wife  received  a  few  lines  from  Romney,  written 
either  by  Miss  Sabrina  or  the  nurse;  after  she  had 
read  her  note,  she  let  herself  be  borne  along  indif 
ferently  on  the  current  of  another  Port  aux  Pins 
day. 

The  Port  aux  Pins  days  were,  in  themselves, 
harder  for  the  judge  than  for  Cicely.  For  Cicely 
remained  passive;  but  the  old  judge  could  not  be 
passive  to  things  he  hated  so  intensely.  At  last,  by 
good-fortune,  Hollis  found  something  that  placated 
him  a  little;  this  was  fishing,  fishing  for  trout;  not 
the  great  rich  creature  of  the  lakes,  which  passes 
under  that  name,  but  that  exquisite  morsel,  the 
brook-trout.  The  judge  had  gone  off  contentedly, 
even  happily,  in  search  of  this  delicate  prey;  he  and 
Hollis  had  explored  the  trout-streams  of  the  two 
neighboring  rivers.  A  third  river,  at  a  greater  dis 
tance,  was  reported  richer  than  any  other;  one 
morning  they  reached  it,  not  only  the  two  fisher 
men,  but  Cicely  also,  and  Eve  and  Paul.  They 
had  crossed  by  steamer  to  a  village  on  the  north 
shore,  an  old  fur-trading  post;  here  they  had  en 
gaged  canoes  and  two  Indians,  and  had  spent  a  long 
day  afloat  on  the  clear  wild  stream.  Its  shores 
were  rocky,  deeply  covered  to  the  water's  edge  with 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  151 

a  dark  forest  of  spruce-trees ;  the  brancblet  trout- 
brooks,  therefore,  had  been  bard  to  find  under  the 
low-sweeping  foliage.  But  in  this  search,  Hollis 
was  an  expert;  with  his  silk  hat  tipped  more  than 
ever  towards  the  back  of  bis  head,  he  kept  watch, 
and  he  and  the  judge  were  put  ashore  several  times 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  returning  smiling  and  ami 
able  whether  they  brought  trout  or  not,  with  the 
serene  contentment  of  fishermen.  The  others  re 
mained  in  the  canoes,  those  light  birch-bark  craft 
of  the  American  red-men,  which,  for  grace  and 
beauty,  have  never  been  surpassed.  Two  red-men 
were  paddling  one  of  them  at  present;  they  were 
civilized  red-men,  they  called  themselves  Bill  and 
Jim.  But,  under  their  straw  hats,  hung  down  their 
long  straight  Indian  hair,  and  the  eagle  profiles 
seemed  out  of  place  above  the  ready-made  coats 
and  trousers.  On  their  slender  feet  they  wore  bead 
ed  moccasins.  Paul  Tennant  and  Hollis  also  wore 
moccasins,  and  the  judge  had  put  on  his  thinnest 
shoes  ;  for  the  birch  -  bark  canoe  has  a  delicate 
floor. 

The  boat  paddled  by  the  Indians  carried  Cicely, 
Porley  and  Jack,  and  the  judge;  the  second  held 
only  three  persons — Eve,  Hollis,  and  Paul  Tennant. 
Paul  was  propelling  it  alone,  his  paddle  touching 
the  water  now  on  one  side,  now  on  the  other,  lifted 
across  as  occasion  required  as  lightly  as  though  it 
had  been  a  feather.  Cicely  was  listless,  Paul  good- 
natured,  but  indifferent  also — so  it  seemed  to  Eve; 
and  Eve  herself,  though  she  remained  quiet  (as  the 
judge  had  described  her),  Eve  was  at  heart  excited. 
These  thick  dark  woods  without  a  path,  without  a 
sound,  the  wild  river,  the  high  Northern  air  which 


152  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

was  like  an  intoxicant — all  these  seemed  to  her  won 
derful.  She  breathed  rapidly;  she  glanced  at  the 
others  in  astonishment.  "  Why  don't  they  admire 
it  ?  Why  doesn't  he  admire  it  ?"  she  thought,  look 
ing  at  Paul. 

Once  the  idea  came  suddenly  that  Paul  was  laugh 
ing  at  her,  and  the  blood  sprang  to  her  face ;  she 
kept  her  gaze  down  iintil  the  stuff  of  her  dress  ex 
panded  into  two  large  circles  in  which  everything 
swam,  so  that  she  was  obliged  to  close  her  eyes  diz 
zily. 

And  then,  when  at  last  she  did  look  up,  her  anger 
and  her  dizziness  had  alike  been  unnecessary,  for 
Paul  was  gazing  at  the  wooded  shore  behind  her;  it 
was  evident  that  he  had  not  thought  of  her,  and  was 
not  thinking  of  her  now. 

This  was  late  in  the  day,  on  their  way  back.  A 
few  minutes  afterwards,  as  they  entered  the  lake, 
she  saw  a  distant  flash,  and  asked  what  it  was. 

"Jupiter  Light,"  said  Paul.  "It's  a  ilash-light, 
and  a  good  one." 

"  There's  a  Jupiter  Light  on  Abercrombie  Island, 
too,"  Eve  remarked. 

"It's  a  common  enough  name,"  Paul  answered; 
"  the  best-known  one  is  off  the  coast  of  Florida." 

The  Indians  passed  them,  paddling  with  rushing, 
rapid  strokes. 

"They're  right;  we  shall  be  late  for  the  steamer 
if  we  don't  look  out,"  said  Paul.  "You  can  help 
now  if  you  like,  Kit." 

He  and  Hollis  took  off  their  coats,  and  the  canoe 
flew  down  the  lake  under  their  feathery  paddles; 
the  water  was  as  calm  as  a  floor.  Eve  was  sitting 
at  the  bow,  facing  Paul.  No  one  spoke,  though 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  153 

Hollis  now  and  then  crooned,  or  rather  chewed,  a 
fragment  of  his  favorite  song: 

"  '  At  the  battle  of  the  Nile  I  was  there  all  the  while — '  " 

The  little  voyage  lasted  half  an  hour. 

They  reached  the  village  in  time  for  the  steamer, 
and  soon  afterwards  not  only  Jack  and  Porley,  but 
Cicely,  the  judge,  and  Hollis,  tired  after  their  long 
day  afloat,  had  gone  to  bed.  When  Cicely  sought 
her  berth  Eve  also  sought  hers,  the  tiny  cells  being 
side  by  side.  Since  their  arrival  at  Port  aux  Pins, 
Cicely  had  become  more  lenient  to  Eve;  she  was 
not  so  cold,  sometimes  she  even  spoke  affectionate 
ly.  But  she  was  very  changeable. 

To-night,  after  a  while,  Eve  tapped  at  Cicely's 
door.  "  Are  you  really  going  to  bed  so  early  ?" 

"  I  am  in  bed  already." 

"  Do  you  want  anything  ?  Isn't  there  something 
I  can  bring  you  ?" 

"  No." 

Eve  went  slowly  back  to  her  own  cell.  But  the 
dimness,  the  warm  air,  oppressed  her;  she  sat  down 
on  a  stool  behind  her  closed  door,  the  excitement  of 
the  day  still  remaining  with  her.  "Is  it  possible 
that  I  am  becoming  nervous? — I,  who  have  always 
despised  nervousness  ?"  She  kept  saying  to  herself, 
"I  will  go  to  bed  in  a  few  minutes."  But  the  idea 
of  lying  there  on  that  narrow  shelf,  staring  at  the 
light  from  the  grating,  repelled  her.  "At  any  rate 
I  will  not  go  on  deck." 

Ten  minutes  later  she  opened  her  door  and  went 
out. 

The  swinging  lamp  in  the  saloon  was  turned 
down,  the  place  was  empty;  she  crossed  the  short 


154  JUPITEK   LIGHTS. 

half -circle  which  led  to  the  stern-deck,  and  stepped 
outside.  There  was  no  moon,  but  a  magnificent  au 
rora  borealis  was  quivering  across  the  sky,  now  an 
even  band,  now  sending  out  long  flakes  of  light 
which  waved  to  and  fro.  Before  she  looked  at  the 
splendid  heavens,  however,  she  had  scanned  the 
deck.  There  was  no  one  there.  She  sat  down  on 
one  of  the  benches. 

Presently  she  heard  a  step,  some  one  was  ap 
proaching.  There  was  a  gleam  of  a  cigar;  a  man's 
figure;  Paul. 

"  Is  that  yon  ?  I  thought  there  would  be  no  one 
here,"  she  said. 

"  We  are  the  only  passengers,"  Paul  answered. 
"  But,  as  there  are  six  of  us,  you  cannot  quite  con 
trol  us  all." 

"  I  control  no  one."  ("  Not  even  myself  !"  she 
thought.) 

"  You  will  have  your  wish,  though  you  ought  not 
to;  despots  shouldn't  be  humored.  You  will  have 
the  place  to  yourself  in  a  few  moments,  because  I 
shall  turn  in  soon — the  time  to  finish  this  cigar — if 
you  don't  mind  the  smoke?" 

"No,  I  don't  mind,"  she  answered,  a  chill  of  dis 
appointment  creeping  slowly  over  her. 

"  Hasn't  it  been  jolly  ?"  Paul  said,  after  a  mo 
ment:  he  had  seated  himself  on  a  stool  near  her 
bench.  "I  do  love  to  be  out  like  this,  away  from 
all  bother." 

"  Do  you  ?     I  thought  you  didn't." 

The  words  were  no  sooner  out  than  she  feared  he 
would  say,  "Why?"  And  then  her  answer  (for  of 
course  she  must  say  something ;  she  could  not  let 
him  believe  that  she  had  had  no  idea) — her  answer 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  155 

would    show    that    she    had    been   thinking   about 
him. 

But  apparently  Paul  was  not  curious,  he  did  not 
ask.  "  It's  very  good  for  Cicely  too;  I  wish  I  could 
take  her  oftener,"  he  went  on.  "  Her  promise  to 
stay  on  here  weighs  upon  her  heavily.  I  don't  know 
whether  she  would  have  kept  her  word  with  me  or 
not ;  but  you  know,  of  course,  that  Ferdie  himself 
has  written,  telling  her  that  she  must  stay  ?" 

"  No." 

"  She  didn't  tell  you  ?" 

"  She  tells  me  nothing !"  replied  Eve.  "  If  she 
would  only  allow  it,  I  would  go  down  there  to-mor 
row.  I  could  be  the  nurse;  I  could  be  the  house 
keeper  ;  anything." 

"  You're  not  needed  down  there,  they  have  plenty 
of  people  ;  we  want  you  here,  to  see  to  her." 

"  One  or  the  other  of  them; — I  hope  they  will  al 
ways  permit  it.  I  can  be  of  use,  perhaps,  about 
Jack." 

"  You  are  too  humble,  Miss  Bruce  ;  sometimes 
you  seem  to  be  almost  on  your  knees  to  Cicely,  as 
though  you  had  done  her  some  great  wrong.  The 
truth  is  the  other  way;  she  ought  to  be  on  her  knees 
to  you.  You  brought  her  off  when  she  hadn't  the 
force  to  come  herself,  poor  little  woman  !  And  you 
did  it  boldly  and  quickly,  just  as  a  man  would  have 
done  it.  Now  that  I  know  you,  I  can  imagine  the 
whole  thing." 

"  Never  speak  of  that  time  ;  never,"  murmured 
Eve. 

"  Well,  I  won't,  then,  if  you  don't  like  it.  But 
you  will  let  me  say  how  glad  I  am  that  you  intend 
to  remain  with  her,  at  least  for  a  while.  You  will 


156  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

see  from  this  that  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  her  story 
about  your  dislike  for  my  brother." 

"There  is  nothing  I  would  not  do  for  him!" 

"Yes,  you  like  to  do  things;  to  be  active.  They 
tell  me  that  you  are  fond  of  having  your  own  way; 
but  that  is  the  very  sort  of  person  they  need — a 
woman  like  you,  strong  and  cool.  After  a  while 
you  would  really  like  Ferdie,  you  couldn't  help  it. 
And  he  would  like  you." 

"  It  is  impossible  that  he  should  like  me."  She 
rose  quickly. 

"You're  going  in?  Well,  fifteen  hours  in  the 
open  air  are  an  opiate.  Should  you  care  to  go  for 
ward  first  for  a  moment  ?  I  can  sho\v  you  a  place 

•  •/  I 

where  you  can  look  down  below;  there  are  two  hun 
dred  emigrants  on  board;  Norwegians. " 

She  hesitated,  drawing  her  shawl  about  her. 

"Take  my  arm;  I  can  guide  you  better  so.  It's 
dark,  and  I  know  the  ins  and  outs." 

She  put  her  hand  upon  his  arm. 

He  drew  it  further  through.  "  I  don't  want  you 
to  be  falling  down  !" 

They  went  forward  along  the  narrow  side.  Con 
versation  was  not  easy,  they  had  to  make  their  way 
round  various  obstacles  by  sense  of  feeling  ;  still  Eve 
talked;  she  talked  hastily,  irrelevantly.  When  she 
came  to  the  end  of  her  breath  she  found  herself  speak 
ing  this  sentence:  "I  like  your  friend  3Ir.  Ilollis  so 
much  !" 

"Yes,  Kit  is  a  wonderful  fellow;  he  has  extraor 
dinary  talent."  He  spoke  in  perfect  good  faith. 

"Oh,  extraordinary?"  said  Eve,  abandoning  Ilol 
lis  with  feminine  versatility,  as  an  obscure  feeling, 
which  she  did  not  herself  recognize,  rose  within  her. 


JUPITEK    LIGHTS.  157 

"  If  you  don't  think  so,  it's  because  you  don't  know 
him.  He  is  an  excellent  classical  scholar,  to  begin 
with;  he  has  read  everything  under  the  sun;  he  is 
an  inventor,  a  geologist,  and  one  of  the  best  lawyers 
in  the  state,  in  spite  of  his  notion  about  not  prac 
tising." 

"  You  don't  add  that  he  is  an  excellent  auctioneer?" 

"No;  that  he  is  not,  I  am  sorry  to  say;  he  is  a 
very  bad  one." 

"  Yet  it  is  the  occupation  which  he  has  himself 
selected.  Does  that  show  such  remarkable  talent  ? 
Now  you,  with  your  mining — "  She  stopped. 

"  I  didn't  select  mining,"  answered  Paul,  roughly, 
"  and  I'm  not  particularly  good  at  it ;  I  took  what  I 
could  get,  that's  all." 

They  had  now  reached  the  forward  deck.  Two 
men  belonging  to  the  crew  were  sitting  on  a  pile  of 
rope  ;  above,  patrolling  the  small  upper  platform, 
was  the  officer  in  charge;  they  could  not  see  him, 
but  they  could  hear  his  step.  To  get  to  the  bow," 
they  walked  as  it  were  up  hill;  they  reached  the 
sharp  point,  and  looked  down  over  the  high,  smooth 
sides  which  were  cutting  the  deep  water  so  quietly. 
Eve's  glance  turned  to  the  splendid  aurora  quiver 
ing  and  shining  above. 

"  This  T.  P.  Mayhew  is  an  excellent  boat,"  re 
marked  Paul,  who  was  still  looking  over  the  sides. 
"  But,  as  to  that,  all  the  N.  T.  boats  arc  good." 

"  N  T  ?" 

"Northern  Transportation."  He  gave  a  slight 
yawn. 

"Tell  me  about  your  iron,"  said  Eve,  quickly. 
("  Oh,  he  will  go  in  !  he  is  going  in  !"  was  her 
thought.) 


158  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  It  isn't  mine — I  wish  it  was  ;  I'm  only  mana- 
ger." 

"  I  don't  mean  the  mine  here ;  I  mean  your  Clay 
County  iron." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  that  ?"  said  Paul,  sur 
prised. 

"Mr.  Hollis  told  me;  he  said  you  had  declined  an 
excellent  offer,  and  he  was  greatly  concerned  about 
it;  he  told  me  the  reasons  why  he  did  not  agree  with 
you." 

"  It  must  have  been  interesting  !  But  that  all  hap 
pened  some  time  ago;  didn't  you  know  that  he  had 
come  round  to  my  view  of  it,  after  all  ?" 

"  No." 

"Yes,  round  he  came;  it  took  him  eight  days. 
He  has  got  such  a  look-on-all-sides  head  that,  when 
he  starts  out  to  investigate,  he  tramps  all  over  the 
sky;  if  he  intends  to  go  north,  he  goes  east,  west, 
and  south  first,  so  as  to  make  sure  that  these  are 
not  the  right  directions.  However,  on  the  eighth 
day  in  he  came,  squeezing  himself  through  a  crack, 
as  usual,  and  explained  to  me  at  length  the  reasons 
why  it  was  better,  on  the  whole,  to  decline  that  offer. 
He  had  thought  the  matter  out  to  its  remotest  con- 

O 

tingencies — some  of  them  went  over  into  the  next 
century!  It  was  remarkably  clear  and  well  argued; 
and  of  course  very  satisfactory  to  me." 

"  But  in  the  meantime  you  had  already  declined, 
hadn't  you  ?" 

"  Yes.  But  it  was  a  splendid  piece  of  following 
up.  I  declare,  I  always  feel  my  inferiority  when  I 
am  with  people  who  can  really  talk — talk  like  that !" 

"Oh!"  said  Eve,  in  accents  of  remonstrance.  Her 
tone  was  so  eloquent  that  Paul  laughed.  He  laughed 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  159 

to  himself,  but  she  heard  it,  or  rather  she  felt  it;  she 
drew  her  hand  quickly  from  his  arm. 

"  Don't  be  vexed.  I  was  only  laughing  to  see 
how—" 

"  How  what  ?" 

"How  invariably  you  women  flatter." 

"I don't."     She  spoke  hurriedly,  confusedly. 

"You  had  better  learn,  then,"  Paul  went  on,  still 
laughing;  "I'm  afraid  that  when  we're  well  stuffed 
with  it  we're  more  good-natured.  Shall  I  take  you 
back  to  the  stern?  I'm  getting  frightfully  sleepy; 
aren't  you  ?" 

On  the  way  back  she  did  not  speak. 

When  they  reached  the  stern-deck,  "  Good-night," 
he  said,  promptly  opening  the  door  into  the  lighted 
saloon. 

She  looked  up  at  him  ;  in  her  face  there  was  an 
inattention  to  the  present,  an  inattention  to  what  he 
was  saying.  Her  eyes  scanned  his  features  with  a 
sort  of  slow  wonder.  But  it  was  a  wonder  at  her 
self. 

"  You  had  better  see  that  the  windows  are  closed," 
said  Paul.  "  There's  going  to  be  a  change  of  wind." 


XVI. 

EVE'S  cheeks  showed  a  deep  rose  bloom;  she  was 
no  longer  the  snow-white  woman  whom  near-sighted 
Miss  Sabrina  had  furtively  scanned  upon  her  arrival 
at  Romney  six  months  before.  She  was  still  mark 
edly  erect,  but  her  step  had  become  less  confident, 
her  despotic  manner  had  disappeared.  Often  now 
she  was  irresolute,  and  she  had  grown  awkward — a 


100  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

thing  new  with  her;  she  did  not  know  how  to  arrange 
her  smallest  action,  hampered  by  this  new  quality. 

But  since  the  terrible  hour  when  Ferdie  had  ap 
peared  at  the  end  of  the  corridor  with  his  candle 
held  aloft  and  his  fixed  eyes,  life  with  her  had  rushed 
along  so  rapidly  that  she  had  seemed  to  be  powerless 
ia  its  current.  The  first  night  in  Paul's  cottage,  in 
her  little  room  next  to  Cicely's,  she  had  spent  hours 
on  her  knees  by  the  bedside  pouring  forth  in  a  flood 
of  gratitude  to  Some  One,  Somewhere — she  knew  no 
formulas  of  prayer  —  that  she  had  been  delivered 
from  the  horror  that  had  held  her  speechless  through 
all  the  long  journey.  Ferdie  was  living  !  She  re 
peated  it  over  and  over — Ferdie  was  living  ! 

At  the  time  there  had  been  no  plan;  she  had 
stepped  back  into  her  room  to  get  the  pistol,  not 
with  any  purpose  of  attack,  but  in  order  not  to  be 
without  some  means  of  defence.  The  pistol  was  one 
of  Jack's,  which  she  had  found  and  taken  possession 
of  soon  after  her  arrival,  principally  because  it  had 
been  his;  she  had  seen  him  with  it  often;  with  it  he 
himself  had  taught  her  to  shoot.  Then  at  the  last, 
when  Jack's  poor  little  boy  had  climbed  up  by  the 
boat's  seat,  and  the  madman  had  made  that  spring 
towards  him,  then  she  had — done  what  she  did.  She 
had  done  it  mechanically;  it  had  seemed  the  only 
thing  to  do. 

But,  once  away,  the  horror  had  come,  as  it  always 
does  and  must,  when  by  violence  a  human  life  has 
been  taken.  She  had  dropped  the  pistol  into  the 
Sound,  but  she  could  not  drop  the  ghastly  picture  of 
the  dark  figure  on  the  sand,  with  its  arms  making 
two  or  three  spasmodic  motions,  then  becoming  sud 
denly  still.  Was  he  dead  ?  If  he  was,  she,  Eve 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  161 

Bruce,  was  a  murderer,  a  creature  to  be  imprisoned 
for  life, — hanged.  How  people  would  shrink  from 
her  if  they  knew  !  And  how  monstrous  it  was  that 
she  should  touch  Cicely  !  Yet  she  must.  Cain, 
where  is  thy  brother?  And  the  Lord  set  a  maik 
upon  Cain,  lest  any  finding  him  should  kill  him. 
Would  it  come  to  this,  that  she  should  be  forced  at 
last  to  take  her  own  life,  in  order  to  be  free  from 
the  horror  of  murder?  These  were  the  constant 
thoughts  of  that  journey  northward,  without  one 
moment's  respite  day  or  night. 

But  deliverance  had  corne:  he  was  alive  !  God 
was  good  after  all,  God  was  kind;  he  had  lifted 
from  her  this  pall  of  death.  He  was  alive  !  He 
was  alive  ! 

"  Oh,  I  did  not  do  it !  I  am  innocent !  That 
figure  has  gone  from  the  sand;  it  got  up  and  walked 
away  !"  She  laughed  in  the  relief,  the  reaction,  and 
buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  to  stiile  it.  "  Cicely 
will  not  know  what  I  am  laughing  at;  she  will  won 
der.  I  need  never  tell  her  anything  now,  because 
the  only  men  who  were  suspected  have  got  safely 
away.  She  is  safe,  little  Jack  is  safe,  and  Ferdie 
is  not  dead;  he  is  alive  —  alive!"  So  swept  on 
through  the  night  the  tide  of  her  immense  joy.  For 
the  next  day  and  the  next,  for  many  days  after,  this 
joy  surged  within  her,  its  outward  expression  being 
the  flush,  and  the  brilliant  light  in  her  eyes. 

Eve  Bruce  had  a  strongly  truthful  nature,  she 
was  frank  not  only  with  others,  but  with  herself; 
she  possessed  the  unusual  mental  quality  (unusual 
in  a  woman)  of  recognizing  facts,  whether  thej7" 
were  agreeable  or  not;  of  living  without  illusions. 
This  had  helped  to  give  her,  perhaps,  her  brusque 
11 


162  JUPITEK   LIGHTS. 

manner,  with  its  absence  of  gentleness,  its  scanty 
sweetness.  With  her  innate  truthfulness,  it  was 
not  long  before  this  woman  perceived  that  there 
was  another  cause  contributing  to  the  excitement 

~ 

that  was  quickening  her  breath  and  making  life 
seem  new.  The  discovery  had  come  suddenly. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  on  a  certain  day  they 
should  walk  out  to  the  mine,  Paul,  the  judge,  Hollis, 
and  herself.  When  the  time  came,  Hollis  appeared 
alone,  Paul  was  too  busy  to  leave  the  office.  They 
walked  out  to  the  mine.  But  Eve  felt  her  feet  drag 
ging,  she  was  unaccountably  depressed.  Upon  her 
return,  as  she  came  in  sight  of  the  cottage,  she  re 
membered  how  happy  she  had  been  there  the  day  be 
fore,  and  for  many  days.  What  had  changed  ?  Had 
she  not  the  same  unspeakable  great  cause  for  joy  ? 
For  what  reason  did  the  day  seem  dull  and  the 
sky  dark  ?  And  then  the  truth  showed  itself  :  it 
was  because  Paul  Teunant  was  not  there  ;  nothing 
else. 

Another  woman  would  have  veiled  it,  would  not 
have  acknowledged  the  fact  even  to  herself  ;  for 
women  have  miraculous  power  of  really  believing 
only  what  they  wish  to  believe  ;  for  many  women 
facts,  taken  alone,  do  not  exist.  But  Eve  had  no 
such  endowments.  She  had  reached  her  room  ;  she 
pushed  to  the  door  and  stood  there  motionless  ; 
after  two  or  three  minutes  she  sank  into  the  nearest 
chair ;  here  she  sat  without  stirring  for  some  time. 
Then  she  rose,  went  down  the  stairs,  and  out  again. 
It  was  six  o'clock,  but  there  were  still  two  hours  of 
daylight;  she  hurried  towards  the  nearest  border  of 
forest,  and,  just  within  its  fringe,  she  began  walking 
rapidly  to  and  fro,  her  hands,  clasped  together,  hang- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  163 

ing  before  her,  her  eyes  on  the  ground.  She  did  not 
come  back  until  nightfall. 

As  she  entered  she  met  Paul. 

"  I  was  coming  to  hunt  for  you.  Where  have 
you  been  ?"  He  spoke  with  surprise. 

Eve  looked  at  him  once.  Then  she  turned  away. 
AVhat  a  change  in  herself  !  Now  she  understood 
Cicely.  Now  she  understood — yes,  she  understood 
everything — the  things  she  had  always  despised — 
pettiness,  jealousy,  impossible  hopes,  disgrace,  shame. 

"  I  was  afraid  Cicely  would  be  alarmed,"  Paul 
went  on. 

And  Eve  was  not  offended  that  it  was  Cicely  of 
whom  he  was  thinking.  It  had  not  yet  occurred  to 
her  that  he  could  think  of  her. 

She  went  in  search  of  Cicely,  who  had  nothing  to 
say  to  her  ;  then,  excusing  herself,  she  retreated  to 
her  room.  Here  she  took  off  her  dress  and  began 
to  unbraid  her  hair.  Then  the  thought  came  to  her 
that  Paul  would  go  to  the  parlor  about  this  time, 
that  he  would  play  a  game  of  chess,  perhaps,  with 
the  judge  ;  hastily  repairing  the  disorder  she  had 
made,  she  rearranged  the  braids,  felt  in  the  rough 
closet  for  her  evening  shoes,  put  them  on,  and  went 
down-stairs  again  with  rapid  step. 

Cicely  made  no  remark  as  she  came  in  ;  Paul  and 
the  judge  were  playing  their  game,  with  llollis  look 
ing  on.  Eve  took  a  book  and  sat  reading,  or  appar 
ently  reading,  at  some  distance.  "  Oh,  how  abject 
this  is  !  How  childish,  how  sickening  !"  Anger 
against  herself  rose  hotly;  under  its  sting  she  felt 
her  strength  returning.  She  sat  there  as  loner  as  the 

o  o  o 

others  did.  "I  will  not  make  a  second  scene  by 
going  out"  (but  no  one  had  noticed  her  first).  She 


"164  JUPITEU    LIGHTS. 

answered  Paul's  good-night  coldly.  But  when  she 
was  back  in  her  room  again,  when  there  Avas  no  more 
escape  from  its  four  walls  until  morning,  then  she 
found  herself  without  defences,  without  pretexts, 
face  to  face  with  the  fact  that  she  loved  this  man, 
this  Paul  Tennant,  with  all  her  heart.  It  was  a  sur 
prise  as  great  as  if  she  had  suddenly  become  blind, 
or  deaf,  or  mad — "  stricken  of  God,"  as  people  call 
it.  "  I  am  stricken.  But  I  am  not  sure  it  is  of 
God  !"  That  she,  no  longer  a  girl,  after  all  these 
years  untouched  by  such  feelings — that  she,  with  her 
clear  vision  and  strong  will  (she  had  always  been  so 
proud  of  her  will),  should  be  led  captive  in  this  way 
by  a  stranger  who  cared  nothing  for  her,  who  did 
not  even  wish  to  capture — it  was  a  sort  of  insanity. 
She  paced  her  room  to  and  fro  as  she  had  paced  the 
fringe  of  woods.  She  stretched  out  her  hands  and 
looked  at  them  as  though  they  had  been  the  hands 
of  some  one  else  ;  she  struck  one  of  them  upon  her 
bare  arm  ;  she  was  so  humiliated  that  she  must  hurt 
something;  that  something  should  be  herself.  "If 
he  should  ever  care  for  me,  I  would  refuse  him,"  she 
repeated,  in  bitter  triumph.  Immediately  the  thought 
followed,  "  He  will  never  care  !" 

"  I  do  not  love  him  really,"  she  kept  repeating. 
"I  am  not  well  ;  it  will  pass."  But  while  she  was 
saying  this,  there  came  a  glow  that  contradicted  her, 
a  glow  before  whose  new  sway  she  was  helpless. 
"  Oh,  I  do  !  I  loved  him  the  first  day  I  saw  him. 
What  is  that  old  phrase? — I  love  the  ground  he 
walks  on."  She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  How  strange  !  I  am  happier  than  I  have  ever 
been  in  my  life  before;  I  didn't  know  that  there  was 
such  happiness  !"  A  door  seemed  to  open,  showing  a 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  165 

way  out  of  her  trouble,  a  way  which  led  to  a  vision 
of  subtle  sweetness — her  life  through  the  future  with 
this  passion  hidden  like  a  treasure  in  her  heart,  no 
one  to  know  it,  no  one  to  suspect  its  existence.  "  As 
I  am  to  be  nothing  to  him,  as  I  wish  to  be  nothing  to 
him,  I  shall  not  care  whom  he  loves  ;  that  is  nothing 
to  me."  Upon  this  basis  she  would  arrange  her  life. 

But  it  is  not  so  easy  to  arrange  life.  Almost  im 
mediately  she  began  to  suffer,  a  species  of  suffering, 
too,  to  which  she  was  unused:  trifles  annoyed  her 
like  innumerable  stings — she  was  not  able  to  preserve 
her  calm;  as  regarded  anything  important,  she  could 
have  been  herself,  or  so  she  imagined  ;  but  little 
things  irritated  her,  and  the  days  were  full  of  little 
things.  She  rebelled  against  this  nervousness,  but 
she  could  not  subdue  it;  and  gradually  the  beautiful 
vision  of  her  life,  as  she  had  imagined  it,  faded  away 
miserably  in  a  cloud  of  petty  exasperations  and  de 
spair.  After  wretched  hours,  unable  to  endure  her 
humiliation  longer,  she  resolved  to  conquer  herself 
at  any  cost,  to  set  herself  free;  she  could  not  go 
away,  because  she  would  not  leave  Cicely;  there  was 
still  her  brother's  child;  but  here,  on  the  spot,  she 
would  overcome  this  feeling  that  had  taken  posses 
sion  of  her  and  changed  her  so  that  she  did  not 
know  herself.  "I  willF  she  said.  It  was  a  vow; 
her  will  was  the  strongest  force  of  her  being. 

This  very  will  blinded  her,  she  was  too  sure  of  it. 
She  was  in  earnest  about  wishing  and  intending  to 

O  O 

win  in  her  great  battle.     But  she  forgot  the  details. 

These  are  some  of  the  details: 

The  one  time  of  day  when  Paul  was  neither  at  the 
mine  nor  in  his  office  was  at  sunset;  twice  she  went 
through  a  chain  of  reasoning  to  prove  to  herself  that 


1G6  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

she  had  a  necessary  errand  at  that  hour  at  one  of 
the  stores;  both  times  she  met  him.  She  had  heard 
Paul  say  that  he  liked  to  see  women  sew;  she  was 
no  needlewoman;  but  presently  she  began  to  em 
broider  an  apron  for  Jack  (with  very  poor  success). 
Paul  was  no  reader;  he  looked  through  the  news 
papers  once  a  day,  and  when  it  rained  very  hard  in 
the  evening,  and  there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  occa 
sionally  he  took  up  his  one  book;  for  he  bad  but 
one,  at  least  so  Hollis  declared;  at  any  rate  he  read 
but  one;  this  one  was  Gibbon.  The  only  edition  of 
the  great  history  in  the  little  book-store  of  Port  aux 
Pins  was  a  miserably  printed  copy  in  paper  covers. 
But  a  lady  bought  it  in  spite  of  its  blurred  type. 

Finally  this  same  lady  went  to  church.  It  was 
on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  the  second  service;  she  came 
in  late,  and  took  a  seat  in  the  last  pew.  When  had 
Eve  Bruce  been  to  church  before?  Paul  went  once 
in  a  while.  And  it  was  when  she  saw  his  head  tow 
ering  above  the  heads  of  the  shorter  people  about 
him,  as  the  congregation  rose  to  repeat  the  creed — it 
was  then  suddenly  that  the  veil  was  lifted  and  she 
saw  the  truth:  this  was  what  she  had  come  for. 

She  did  not  try  to  deny  it,  she  comprehended  her 
failure.  After  this  she  ceased  to  struggle,  she  only 
tried  to  be  quiet.  She  lived  from  day  to  day,  from 
hour  to  hour;  it  was  a  compromise.  "But  I  shall 
not  be  here  long;  something  will  separate  us;  soon, 
perhaps  in  a  few  weeks,  it  will  have  come  to  an 
end,  and  then  I  may  never  see  him  again."  So  she 
reasoned,  passively. 

About  this  time  Cicely  fell  ill.  The  Port  aux 
Pins  doctor  had  at  length  given  a  name  to  her  lisf- 
lessncss  and  her  constantly  increasing  physical  weak- 


JUPITKR   LIGHTS.  107 

ness;  he  called  it  nervous  prostration  (one  of  the 
modern  titles  for  grief,  or  an  aching  heart). 

"  "What  do  you  advise?"  Paul  had  asked. 

"  Take  her  away." 

T\vo  days  later  they  were  living  under  tents  at 
Jupiter  Light. 

"  We  cannot  get  off  this  evening;  it  is  perfectly 
impossible,"  the  judge  had  declared,  bewildered  by 
Paul's  sudden  decision,  not  knowing  as  yet  whether 
lie  agreed  with  it  or  not,  and  furthermore  harried 
by  the  arrival  of  tents,  provisions,  Indians,  cooks, 
and  kettles,  the  kettles  invading  even  the  dining- 

7  O  O 

room,  his  especial  retreat. 

"Oh,  we  shall  go;  never  you  fear,"  said  Ilollis, 
who  was  hard  at  work  boxing  up  an  iron  bedstead. 
"At  the  last  moment  Paul  will  drive  us  all  on  board 
like  a  flock  of  sheep." 

And,  at  nine  o'clock  that  night,  they  did  embark, 
the  judge,  who  had  given  up  comprehending  any 
thing,  walking  desperately  behind  the  others;  Ilol 
lis,  weighed  down  with  rods  and  guns,  and  his  own 
clothing  escaping  from  newspapers;  a  man  cook;  a 
band  of  Indians;  Porley  and  Jack;  Eve;  and,  last  of 
all,  Cicely,  tenderly  carried  in  Paul's  arms.  In  a 
week  the  complete  change,  the  living  under  canvas 
in  the  aromatic  air  of  the  pines,  produced  a  visible 
effect;  Cicely  began  to  recover  her  lost  vitality;  the 
alarming  weakness  disappeared.  Every  day  there 
came  her  letter  or  despatch,  one  of  the  Indians  going 
fifteen  miles  for  it,  in  a  canoe;  the  message  was  al 
ways  favorable,  Ferdie  was  constantly  improving. 
All  was  arranged,  Paul  was  to  go  southward  in  July. 
He  and  Cicely  had  frequent  talks  (talks  which  Paul 
tried  to  make  as  cheerful  as  possible);  perhaps,  next 


168  JUPITEK   LIGHTS. 

winter,  they  should  all  be  living  together  at  Port 
aux  Pins;  that  is,  in  case  it  should  be  thought  best 
to  give  up  Valparaiso,  after  all.  Cicely  read  and 
re-read  the  letters ;  she  always  kept  the  last  one 
under  her  dress  on  her  heart;  for  the  rest  she  floated 
in  the  canoe,  and  she  played  with  Jack,  who  bloomed 
with  health  to  that  extent  that  he  was  called  the 
Porpoise.  The  judge,  happy  in  the  improvement  of 
his  darling  little  girl,  fished  ;  snarled  with  Hollis  ; 
then  fished  again.  Hollis,  always  attired  in  his  black 
coat,  showed  positive  genius  in  the  matter  of  broil 
ing.  And  Paul  came  and  went  as  he  was  able.  As 
he  could  not  be  absent  long  from  the  mine,  he  made 
the  journey  to  Port  aux  Pins  every  three  days,  leav 
ing  Hollis  in  charge  at  the  camp  during  his  absence. 
One  day  Hollis  also  was  obliged  to  go  to  Port  aux 
Pins.  And  while  he  was  there  he  attended  an  even 
ing  party.  This  entertainment  he  described  for 
Cicely's  amusement  upon  his  return.  For  she  was 
the  central  person  to  them  all;  they  gathered  round 
her,  they  obeyed  eagerly  her  slightest  wish;  when 
she  laughed,  they  laughed  also,  they  were  so  glad  to 
see  life  once  more  animating  her  white  little  face  ; 
it  was  for  this  that  Ilollis  prolonged  his  story,  and 
quoted  Shakespeare;  he  would  have  stood  on  his 
head  if  it  would  have  made  her  smile. 

A  part  of  Hollis's  description:  "  So  then  her  sister 
Idora  started  on  the  piano  an  accompaniment  that 
went  like  this:  Bang!  la-la-la.  Bang!  la-Ia-la,  and 
Miss  Parthenia,  she  began  singing: 

'  0  wliy-ee  should  the  white  man  follow  my  path 
Like  the  hound  on  the  tiger's  track?' 

And  then,  with  her  hand  over  her  mouth,  she  gave 
us  a  regular  Indian  war-whoop." 


JUPITEK   LIGHTS.  109 

"  How  I  wish  I  had  been  there  !"  said  Cicely,  with 
sudden  laughter. 

o 

"She'll  whoop  for  you  at  any  time;  proud  to," 
continued  llollis.  "  Well,  after  the  song  was  over, 
Mother  Drone  she  sat  back  in  her  chair,  and  she 
loosened  her  cap-strings  on  the  sly.  Says  she  :  '  I 
hope  the  girls  won't  see  me  doing  this,  Mr.  Hollis  ; 
they  think  tarlatan  strings  tied  under  the  chin  for  a 
widow  are  so  sweet.  I  told  them  I'd  been  a  widow 
fifteen  years  without  'em;  but  they  say,  now  they've 
grown  up,  I  ought  to  have  strings  for  their  sakes, 
and  be  more  prominent.  Is  Idora  out  on  the  steps 
with  Wolf  Roth?  Would  you  mind  peeking?'  So 
I  peeked.  But  Wolf  Roth  was  there  alone.  'He 
don't  look  dangerous,'  I  remarked,  when  I'd  loped 
back.  Says  she:  'He'd  oughter,  then.  And  he 
would,  too,  if  he  knew  it  was  me  he  sees  when  he 
comes  serenading.  I  tap  the  girls  on  the  shoulder: 
'  Girls  ?  Wolf  Roth  and  his  guitar  !'  But  you 
might  as  well  tap  the  seven  sleepers!  So  Thave  to 
cough,  and  I  have  to  glimp,  and  Wolf  Roth — he 
little  thinks  it's  ma'am  !" 

"  Oh,  what  is  glimp?"  said  Cicely,  still  laughing. 

"It's  showing  a  light  through  the  blinds,  very 
faint  and  shy,"  answered  Hollis. 

"  '  Thou  know'st  the  mask  of  night  is  on  me  face, 
Else  would  a  maid-en  blush  bepaint  me  cheek,'" 

he  quoted,  gravely.  "  That's  about  the  size  of  it,  I 
guess." 

Having  drawn  the  last  smile  from  Cicely,  he  went 
off  to  his  tent,  and  presently  he  and  the  judge  start 
ed  for  the  nearest  trout-brook  together. 

Paul  came  up  from  the  beach.     "There's  an  In- 


170  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

dian  village  two  miles  above  here,  Cicely;  do  you 
care  to  have  a  look  at  it?  I  could  take  you  and 
jMiss  Bruce  in  the  little  canoe." 

But  Cicely  was  tired  :  often  now,  after  a  sudden  lit 
of  merriment  (which  seemed  to  be  a  return,  though 
infinitely  fainter,  of  her  old  wild  moods),  she  would 
look  exhausted.  "  I  think  I  will  swing  in  the  ham 
mock,"  she  said. 

"Will  you  go,  then,  Miss  Bruce?"  Paul  asked, 
carelessly. 

"Thanks;  I  have  something  to  do." 

Half  an  hour  later,  Paul  having  gone  off  by  him 
self,  she  was  sitting  on  a  fallen  tree  on  the  shore,  at 
some  distance  from  the  tents,  when  his  canoe  glided 
suddenly  into  view,  coming  round  a  near  point;  he 
beached  it  and  sprang  ashore. 

"You  surely  have  not  had  time  to  go  to  that  vil 
lage?"  she  said,  rising. 

"Did  I  say  I  was  going  alone?  Apparently  what 
you  had  to  do  was  not  so  very  important,"  he  added, 
smiling. 

"  Yes,  I  was  occupied,"  she  answered. 

"We  can  go  still,  if  you  like;  there  is  time." 

"Thank  you; — no." 

Paul  gave  her  a  look.  She  fancied  that  she  saw 
in  it  regret.  "Is  it  very  curious — your  village? 
Perhaps  it  would  be  amusing,  after  all." 

lie  helped  her  into  the  canoe,  and  the  next  mo 
ment  they  were  gliding  up  the  lake.  The  village 
was  a  temporary  one,  twenty  or  thirty  wigwams  in  ;i 
grove.  Only  the  women  and  children  were  at  home, 
the  sweet-voiced  young  squaws  in  their  calico  skirts 
and  blankets,  the  queer  little  mummy-like  pappooses, 
the  half-naked  children.  They  brought  out  bows 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  171 

and  aiTows  to  sell,  agates  which  they  had  found  on 
the  beach,  Indian  sugar  in  little  birch-bark  boxes, 
quaintly  ornamented. 

"  Tell  them  to  gather  some  bluebells  for  me,"  said 
Eve.  Her  face  had  an  expression  of  joyousness  ; 
every  now  and  then  she  laughed  like  a  merry  girl. 

Paul  repeated  her  request  in  the  Chippewa  tongue, 
and  immediately  all  the  black-eyed  children  sallied 
forth,  returning  with  large  bunches  of  the  fragile- 
stemmed  flowers,  so  that  Eve's  hands  were  full.  She 
lingered,  sitting  on  the  side  of  an  old  canoe;  she 
distributed  all  the  small  coins  she  had.  Finally  they 
were  afloat  again;  she  wondered  who  had  suggested 
it.  "There's  a  gleam  already,"  she  said,  as  they 
passed  Jupiter  Light.  "  Some  day  I  should  like  to 
go  out  there." 

"I  can  take  you  now,"  Paul  answered.  And  he 
sent  the  canoe  flying  towards  the  reef. 

She  had  made  no  protest.  "  He  wished  to  go," 
she  said  to  herself,  contentedly. 

The  distance  was  greater  than  she  had  supposed; 
it  was  twilight  when  they  reached  the  miniature 
beach. 

"  Shall  we  make  them  let  us  in,  and  climb  up  to 
the  top  ?"  suggested  Paul. 

She  laughed.     "No;  better  not." 

She  looked  up  at  the  tower.  Paul,  standing  be 
side  her,  his  arms  folded,  his  head  thrown  back,  was 
looking  up  also.  "  I  can't  see  the  least  light  from 
here,"  he  said.  Then  again,  "  Dorft  you  want  to 
go  up  ?" 

"Well— if  you  like." 

It  was  dark  within;  a  man  came  down  with  a  lan 
tern,  and  preceded  them  up  the  narrow  winding 


172  JUPITEK   LIGHTS. 

stairway.  When  they  reached  the  top  they  could  see 
nothing  but  the  interior  of  the  little  room;  so  down 
they  came  again,  without  even  saying  the  usual 
things:  about  the  probable  queerness  of  life  in  such  a 
place;  and  whether  any  one  could  really  like  it;  and 
that  some  persons  might  be  found  who  would  con 
sider  it  an  ideal  residence  and  never  wish  to  come 
away.  Though  their  stay  had  been  so  short,  their 
going  up  so  aimless,  the  expedition  did  not  seem  to 
Eve  at  all  stupid;  in  her  eyes  it  had  the  air  of  an 
exciting  adventure. 

"  They  will  be  wondering  where  we  are,"  said 
Paul,  as  he  turned  the  canoe  homeward.  She  did 
not  answer,  it  was  sweet  to  her  to  sit  there  in  silence, 
and  feel  the  light  craft  dart  forward  through  the 
darkness  under  his  strong  strokes.  Who  were 
"they"?  Why  should  "they"  wonder?  Paul  too 
said  nothing.  Unconsciously  she  believed  that  he 
shared  her  mood. 

When  they  reached  the  camp  he  helped  her  out. 
"I  hope  you  are  not  too  tired  ?  At  last  I  can  have 
the  credit  of  doing  something  that  has  pleased  you; 
I  saw  how  much  you  wanted  to  go." 

He  saw  how  much  she  had  wanted  to  go  ! — that 
spoiled  all.  Anger  filled  her  heart  to  suffocation. 

Two  hours  later  she  stood  looking  from  her  tent 
for  a  moment.  Cicely  and  Jack,  with  whom  she 
shared  it,  were  asleep,  and  she  herself  was  wrapped 
in  a  blue  dressing  -  gown  over  her  delicate  night 
dress,  her  hair  in  long  braids  hanging  down  her 
back.  The  judge  and  Hollis  had  gone  to  bed,  the 
Indians  were  asleep  under  their  own  tent;  all  was 
still,  save  the  regular  wash  of  the  water  on  the  beach. 
By  the  dying  light  of  the  camp-fire  she  could  make 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  173 

out  a  figure — Paul,  sitting  alone  beside  one  of  their 
rough  tables,  with  his  elbow  upon  it,  his  head  sup 
ported  by  his  hand.  Something  in  his  attitude  struck 
her,  and  reasonless^,  silently,  her  anger  against  him 
vanished,  and  its  place  was  filled  by  a  great  tender 
ness.  What  was  he  thinking  of  ?  She  did  not 
know;  she  only  knew  one  thing — that  she  loved 
him.  After  looking  at  him  for  some  minutes  she 
dropped  the  flap  of  the  tent  and  stole  to  bed,  where 
immediately  she  began  to  imagine  what  she  might 
say  to  him  if  she  were  out  there,  and  what  he  might 
reply;  her  remarks  should  be  very  original,  touch 
ing,  or  brilliant;  and  he  would  be  duly  impressed, 
and  would  gradually  show  more  interest.  And  then, 
when  he  began  to  advance,  she  would  withdraw. 
So  at  last  she  fell  asleep. 

Meanwhile,  outside  by  the  dying  fire,  what  was 
Paul  Tennant  thinking  of?  His  Clay  County  iron. 
He  had  had  another  offer,  and  this  project  was  one 
in  which  he  should  himself  have  a  share.  But  could 
he  accept  it  ?  Could  he  pledge  himself  to  advance 
the  money  required  ?  lie  had  only  his  salary  at 
present,  all  his  savings  having  gone  to  Valparaiso ; 
there  were  Ferdie's  expenses  to  think  of,  and  Fer- 
die's  wife,  that  little  wife  so  unreasonable  and  so 
sweet,  she  too  must  lack  nothing.  It  grew  towards 
midnight;  still  he  sat  there  pondering,  adding  figures 
mentally,  calculating.  The  bird  which  had  so  in 
sistently  cried  "  Wkip-po-TF&J,"  "  Whip-po-TT^," 
had  ceased  its  song  ;  there  came  from  a  distance, 
twice,  the  laugh  of  a  loon  ;  Jupiter  Light  went  on 
flashing  its  gleam  regularly  over  the  lake. 

The  man  by  the  fire  never  once  thought  of  Eve 
Bruce. 


174  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 


XVII. 

PAUL'S  arrangements,  as  regarded  Cicely,  had  been 
excellent.  But  an  hour  arrived  when  the  excellence 
suddenly  became  of  no  avail ;  for  Cicely's  mood 
changed.  When  the  change  had  taken  place,  noth 
ing  that  any  of  these  persons,  who  were  devoting 
themselves  to  her,  could  do  or  say,  weighed  with  her 
for  one  instant.  She  came  from  her  tent  one  morn 
ing,  and  said,  "Grandpa,  please  come  down  to  tin; 
shore  for  a  moment."  She  led  the  way,  and  the 
judge  followed  her.  When  they  reached  the  beach 
the  moon  was  rising,  its  narrow  golden  path  crossed 
the  lake  to  their  feet.  "  I  can't  stay  here  any  longer, 
grandpa." 

"  We  will  go  back  to  Port  aux  Pins,  then,  dearie; 
though  it  seerns  a  pity,  you  have  been  so  well 
here." 

"I  don't  mean  Port  aux  Pins;  I  am  going  to 
Romney." 

"But  I  thought  Ferdie  had  written  to  you  not  to 
come  ?  Tennant  certainly  said  so,  he  assured  me 
that  Ferdie  had  written,  urging  you  to  stay  here; 
he  has  no  right  to  deceive  me  in  that  way — Paul 
Tennant;  it's  outrageous  !" 

"Ferdie  did  write.  And  he  didn't  urge  me  to 
stay,  he  commanded  me." 

"Then  you  must  obey  him,"  said  the  judge. 

"No;  I  must  disobey  him."  She  stood  looking 
absently  at  the  water.  "  lie  has  some  reason." 

"  Of  course  he  has — an  excellent  one;  he  wants  to 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  175 

keep  you  out  of  the  mess  of  a  long  illness — you  and 
Jack." 

"  I  wish  you  would  never  mention  Jack  to  me 
again." 

"  My  dear  little  girl, — not  mention  Jack  ?  Why, 
how  can  we  talk  at  all,  without  mentioning  baby?" 

"  You  and  Eve  keep  bringing  him  into  every  con 
versation,  because  you  think  it  will  have  an  influence 
— make  me  give  up  Ferdie.  Nothing  will  make  me 
give  up  Ferdie.  So  you  need  not  talk  of  baby  any 
more." 

The  judge  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  despair. 

Cicely  went  on.  "No;  it  is  not  his  illness  that 
made  Ferdie  tell  me  to  stay  here.  He  has  some 
other  reason.  And  I  am  afraid." 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of?" 

"  I  don't  know, — that  is  the  worst  of  it  !  Since 
his  letter,  I  have  imagined  everything.  I  cannot 
bear  it  any  longer;  you  must  take  me  to  him  to 
morrow,  or  I  shall  start  by  myself;  I  could  easily 
do  it,  I  could  outwit  you  twenty  times  over." 

"  Outwit  ?     You  talk  in  that  way  to  me?" 

Cicely  watched  him  as  his  face  quivered,  all  his 
features  seeming  to  shrink  together  for  an  instant. 
"I  suppose  I  seem  selfish,  grandpa."  She  threw  out 
her  hands  with  sudden  passion.  "  I  don't  want  to 
be,  I  don't  mean  to  be  !  It  is  you  who  are  keeping 
me  here.  Can't  you  see  that  I  must  go?  Can't 
you  ?" 

"Why  no,  I  can't,"  said  the  old  man,  terrified  by 
her  vehemence. 

"  There's  no  use  talking,  then."  She  left  him,  and 
went  back  through  the  woods  towards  the  tents. 

The  judge  came  up  from  the  beach  alone.     Ilollis, 


176  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

who  was  sitting  by  the  fire,  noted  his  desolate  face. 
"  Euchre  ?"  he  proposed,  good-naturedly.  (lie  called 
it  "yuke.")  But  the  judge  neither  saw  him  nor 
heard  him. 

As  Cicely  reached  her  tent,  she  met  Eve  coming 
out,  with  Jack  in  her  arms.  She  seized  the  child, 
felt  of  his  feet  and  knees,  and  then,  holding  him 
tightly,  she  carried  him  to  the  fire,  where  she  seated 
herself  on  a  bench.  Eve  came  also,  and  stood  beside 
the  fire.  After  a  moment  the  judge  seated  himself 
humbly  on  the  other  end  of  the  bench  which  held 
his  grandchild.  There  was  a  pause,  broken  only  by 
the  crackling  of  the  flame.  Then  Cicely  said,  with 
a  dry  little  laugh,  "You  had  better  go  to  your  tent, 
Mr.  Ilollis.  You  need  not  take  part  in  this  family 
quarrel." 

"  Quarrel  !"  replied  Hollis,  cheerily.  "Who  could 
quarrel  with  you,  Mrs.  Morrison  ?  Might  as  well 
quarrel  with  a  bobolink."  No  one  answered  hirn. 
"Don't  know  as  you've  ever  seen  a  bobolink?"  he 
went  on,  rather  anxiously.  "  I  assure  you — lively 
and  magnificent !" 

"  It  is  a  pity  you  are  so  devoted  to  Paul,"  remarked 
Cicely,  looking  at  him. 

"  Devoted  ?  Well,  now,  I  never  thought  I  should 
come  to  that"  said  Ilollis,  with  a  grin  of  embarrass 
ment,  kicking  the  brands  of  the  fire  apart  with  his 
boot. 

"  Because  if  you  weren't,  I  might  take  you  into  my 
confidence — I  need  some  one  ;  I  want  to  run  away 
from  grandpa  and  Eve." 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say,"  said  Hollis,  jocularly.  But  his 
eyes  happening  to  fall  first  upon  Eve,  then  upon  the 
judge,  he  grc\v  suddenly  disturbed.  "  Why  don't 


.JUPITER    LIGHTS.  177 

you  take  Paul  ?"  he  suggested,  still  trying  to  be 
jocular.  "He  is  a  better  helper  than  I  am." 

"  Paul  is  my  head  jailer,"  answered  Cicely. 
"  Grandpa  and  Eve  are  only  his  assistants." 

The  judge  covered  his  face  with  his  hand.  Hollis 
saw  that  he  was  suffering  acutely.  "  Paul  had  bet 
ter  come  and  defend  himself,"  he  said,  still  clinging 
to  his  jocosity;  "I  am  going  to  get  him."  And  he 
started  towards  Paul's  tent  with  long  swinging 
strides,  like  the  lope  of  an  Indian. 

"  Cicely,"  said  Eve,  coming  to  the  bench,  "  I  will 
take  you  to  Romney,  if  that  is  what  you  want;  we 
will  start  to-morrow." 

"  Saul  among  the  prophets  !"  answered  Cicely, 
cynically.  "Are  you  planning  to  escape  from  me 
with  Jack,  as  I  am  planning  to  escape  from  grandpa?" 

"  I  am  not  planning  anything;  I  only  want  to  help 
you." 

Cicely  looked  at  her.  "  Curiously  enough,  Eve,  I 
believe  you.  I  don't  know  what  has  changed  you, 
but  I  believe  you." 

The  judge  looked  up;  the  two  women  held  each 
other's  hands.  The  judge  left  his  seat  and  hurried 
away. 

He  arrived  at  Paul's  tent  breathless.  The  hang 
ing  lamp  within  illuminated  a  rude  table  which  held 
ink  and  paper;  Paul  had  evidently  stopped  in  the 
midst  of  his  writing,  for  he  still  held  his  pen  in  his 
hand. 

"I  was  saying  to  Paul  that  he  really  ought  to 
come  out  now  and  talk  to  the  ladies,  instead  of 
crooking  his  back  over  that  writing,"  said  Hollis. 

But  the  judge  waved  him  aside.  "  For  God's 
sake,  Temiant,  come  out,  and  see  what  you  can  do 
12 


178  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

with  Cicely !  She  is  determined  to  go  to  that  mur 
dering  brother  of  yours  in  spite  of — " 

"  Hold  up,  if  you  please,  about  my  brother,"  said 
Paul,  putting  down  his  pen. 

"And  Eve  is  abetting  her;  —  says  she  will  take 
her  to-morrow." 

"Not  Miss  Bruce?  What  has  made  her  change 
so  ? — confound  her  !" 

The  judge  had  already  started  to  lead  the  way 
back.  But  Hollis,  who  was  behind,  touched  Paul's 
arm.  "  I  say,  don't  confound  her  too  much,  Paul," 
he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "She  is  a  remarkably  clever 
girl.  And  she  thinks  a  lot  of  you." 

"Sorry  for  her,  then,"  answered  Paul,  going  out. 
As  Hollis  still  kept  up  with  him,  he  added,  "  How 
do  you  know  she  does  ?" 

"Because  I  like  her  myself,"  answered  Hollis, 
bravely.  "When  you're  that  way,  you  know,  you 
can  always  tell." 

He  fell  behind.     Paul  went  on  alone. 

When  he  reached  the  camp-fire,  Cicely  looked  up. 
"  Oh,  you've  come  !" 

"Yes." 

"  There  are  two  of  us  now.     Eve  is  on  my  side." 

"So  I  have  heard."  He  went  to  Eve,  took  her 
arm,  and  led  her  away  almost  by  force  to  the  shadow 
at  some  distance  from  the  fire.  "  What  in  the  world 
has  made  you  change  so  ?"  he  said.  "  Do  you  know 
— it's  abject." 

"  Yes,  it's  abject,"  Eve  answered.  She  could  see 
him  looking  at  her  in  the  dusky  darkness;  she  had 
never  been  looked  at  in  such  a  way  before.  "  It's 
brave,  too,"  she  added,  trying  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  I  don't  understand  riddles." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  179 

"I  think  you  understand  mine."  She  had  said  it. 
She  had  been  seized  with  a  sudden  wild  desire  to 
make  an  end  of  it,  to  put  it  into  words.  The  over 
weight  of  daring  which  nature  had  given  her  drew 
her  on. 

"  Well,  if  I  do,  then,"  answered  Paul,  "  why  don't 
you  want  to  please  me  ?" 

She  turned  her  head  away,  suffocated  by  his  calm 
acceptance  of  her  avowal.  "  It  would  be  of  no  use. 
And  I  want  to  make  one  woman  happy;  so  few 
women  are  happy !" 

"  Do  you  call  it  happy  to  have  Ferdie  knocking 
her  about  ?" 

"  She  does." 

"  And  knocking  about  Jack,  too  ?" 

"  I  shall  be  there,  I  can  take  care  of  Jack." 

"  I  see  I  can  do  nothing  with  you.  You  have  lost 
your  senses  !" 

He  went  back  to  Cicely.  "  Ferdie  has  his  faults, 
Cicely,  as  we  both  know;  but  you  have  yours  too, 
you  make  yourself  out  too  important.  How  many 
other  women  do  you  think  he  has  cared  for  ?" 

"Before  he  saw  me,  five  hundred,  if  you  like;  five 
thousand." 

"  And  since  he  saw  you — since  he  married  you '?" 

Cicely  laughed  happily. 

"  I  will  bring  you  something,"  said  Paul.  He  went 
off  to  his  tent. 

Eve  came  rapidly  to  Cicely.  "  Don't  believe  a 
word  he  tells  you  !" 

"  If  it  is  anything  against  Ferdie,  of  course  I  shall 
not,"  answered  Cicely,  composedly. 

The  judge  had  followed  Paul  to  his  tent.  He  wait 
ed  anxiously  outside,  and  then  followed  him  back. 


180  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  I  don't  believe,  after  all,  Cicely,  that  you  are  go 
ing  to  do  what  I  don't  want  you  to  do,"  said  Paul, 
in  a  cheerful  tone,  as  he  came  up.  He  seemed  to 
have  abandoned  whatever  purpose  he  had  had,  for 
he  brought  nothing  with  him  —  his  hands  were 
empty. 

Cicely  did  not  reply,  she  played  with  a  curl  of 
Jack's  hair. 

"  Ferdie  himself  doesn't  want  you  to  go  ;  you 
showed  me  his  letter  saying  so." 

"  Yes." 

"  Isn't  that  enough,  then?  Come,  don't  be  so  cold 
with  me,"  Paul  went  on,  his  voice  taking  caressing 
tones. 

Cicely  felt  their  influence.  "  I  want  to  go,  Paul, 
because  that  very  letter  of  Ferdie's  makes  me 
afraid,"  she  said,  wistfully;  "I  feel  that  there  is 
something  behind,  something  I  do  not  know." 

"If  there  is,  it  is  something  which  he  does  not 
wish  you  to  know." 

"That  could  never  be;  it  is  only  because  I  am  not 
with  him  ;  when  I  am  with  him,  he  tells  me  every 
thing,  he  likes  to  tell  me." 

"  Will  you  take  my  word  for  it  if  I  assure  you 
that  it  is  much  better  for  both  of  you,  not  only  for 
yourself,  but  for  Ferdie,  that  you  stay  here  awhile 
longer  ?" 

"  Xo,"  replied  Cicely,  hardening.  Her  "  no  "  was 
quiet,  but  it  expressed  an  obstinacy  that  was  immov 
able. 

Paul  looked  at  her.     "  Will  you  wait  a  week  ?" 

"No." 

"Will  you  wait  three  days?" 

"I  shall  start  to-morrow,"  replied  Cicely. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  181 

"Read  this,  then."  He  took  a  letter  from  his 
pocket  and  held  it  towards  her,  his  name,  "  Paul  Ten- 
nant,  Esq.,"  clearly  visible  on  the  envelope  in  the 
light  of  the  flame. 

But  at  the  same  instant  Eve  bent  forward  ;  she 
grasped  his  arm,  drawing  his  hand  back. 

"  Don't  you  interfere,"  he  said,  freeing  himself. 

Eve  turned  to  the  judge.     "  Oh,  take  her  away  !" 

"Where  to?  I  relied  upon  Tennant  ;  I  thought 
Tennant  would  be  able  to  do  something,"  said  the 
old  man,  miserably. 

Paul  meanwhile,  his  back  turned  squarely  to  Eve, 
was  again  holding  out  the  letter  to  Cicely. 

Cicely  did  not  take  it. 

"I'll  read  it  aloud,  then."  He  drew  the  sheet 
from  its  envelope,  and,  opening  it,  began,  "  '  Dear 
old  Paul—' " 

Cicely  put  out  both  her  hands, — "  Give  it  to  me." 
She  took  it  hastily.  "  Oh,  how  can  you  treat  him  so 
— Ferdie,  your  own  brother  !"  Her  eyes  were  full 
of  tears. 

"I  cared  for  him  before  you  ever  saw  him,"  an 
swered  Paul,  exasperated.  "  What  do  you  know 
about  my  feelings?  Ferdie  wishes  you  to  stay  here, 
and  every  one  thinks  you  exceedingly  wrong  to  go 
— every  one  except  Miss  Bruce,  who  seems  to  have 
lost  her  head."  Here  he  flashed  a  short  look  at  Eve. 

"I  shall  go  !"  cried  Cicely. 

"  Because  you  think  he  cannot  get  on  without 
you  ?" 

"  I  know  he  cannot." 

"  Read  the  letter,  then." 

"  No,  take  the  letter  away  from  her,"  said  Eve. 

She  spoke  to  Paul,  and  her  tone  was  a  command. 


182  JUPITEE   LIGHTS. 

He  looked  at  her;  with  a  sudden  change  of  fooling 
he  tried  to  obey  her.  But  it  was  too  late,  Cicely 
had  thrust  the  letter  into  the  bodice  of  her  dress  ; 
then  she  rose,  her  sleeping  child  in  her  arms. 
"  Grandpa,  will  you  come  with  me  ?  Will  you  carry 
Jack  ?" 

"  I  will  take  him,"  said  Paul. 

"No,  only  grandpa,  please  ;  not  even  you,  Eve  ; 
just  grandpa  and  I.  You  may  come  later;  in  fifteen 
minutes."  She  spoke  with  a  dignity  which  she  had 
never  shown  before,  and  they  went  away  together, 
the  old  man  carrying  the  sleeping  child. 

"  What  was  in  that  letter  ?"  Eve  demanded  accus 
ingly,  as  soon  as  they  were  left  alone. 

"  Well,  another  woman." 

"  Cruel !" 

"Yes,  it  seems  so  now,"  said  Paul,  disturbed. 
"My  one  idea  about  it  was  that  it  might  make  her 
less  confident  that  she  was  all-important  to  him  ;  in 
that  way  we  could  keep  her  on  here  a  while  longer." 

"  Yes,  with  a  broken  heart." 

"  Oh,  hearts  !  rubbish  ! — the  point  was  to  make 
her  stay.  You  haven't  half  an  idea  how  important 
it  is,  and  I  can't  tell  you;  she  cannot  go  back  to  him 
until  I  have  been  down  there  and — and  changed 
some  things,  made  new  arrangements." 

"  I  think  it  the  greatest  cruelty  I  have  ever  heard 
of !"  She  hurried  through  the  woods  towards  the 
tents;  Paul  followed  her. 

The  judge  came  out  as  they  approached.  "She  is 
reading  it,"  he  said  in  a  whisper.  "  Tennant,  I  hope 
you  know  what  you  are  about?" 

"  Yes ;  that  letter  will  make  her  stay,"  answered 
Paul,  decisively. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  183 

Eve  turned  to  enter  the  tent. 

"  The  fifteen  minutes  are  not  up,"  said  Paul,  hold 
ing  her  back. 

She  drew  away  from  him,  but  she  did  not  try  to 
enter  again;  they  waited  in  silence. 

Then  came  a  sound.  Eve  ran  within,  the  two  men 
behind  her. 

Little  Jack,  on  the  bed,  was  sleeping  peacefully. 
Cicely  had  fallen  from  her  seat  to  the  matting  that 
covered  the  floor. 

Eve  lifted  her  ;  kneeling  on  the  matting,  she  held 
her  in  her  arms. 


XVIII. 

THE  letter,  though  it  was  only  a  partial  revela 
tion,  roused  in  Ferdie's  wife  a  passion  of  anger  so 
intense  that  they  were  all  alarmed.  She  did  not 
speak  or  stir;  she  sat  looking  at  them;  but  her  very 
immobility,  with  the  deep  spot  of  red  in  each  cheek, 
and  her  darkened  narrowed  eyes,  made  her  terrible. 
This  state  lasted  for  twenty-four  hours,  during  which 
time  the  poor  old  judge,  unable  to  sit  down  or  to 
sleep,  wandered  about,  Ilollis  accompanying  him 
silently,  and  waiting  outside  when  he  went  every 
now  and  then  to  the  entrance  of  the  tent  to  look  in. 
Paul  came  once.  But  Cicely's  eyes  darkened  so 
when  she  saw  him  that  Eve  hurriedly  motioned  him 
away.  She  followed  him  out. 

"  Do  not  come  again  until  I  send  for  you." 

"  If  there  is  nothing  for  me  to  do  then,  I  might  as 
well  go  to  bed." 

"  You  are  fortunate  in  being  able  to  sleep  !" 


184  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  I  shall  sleep  a  great  deal  better  than  I  did  when 
I  thought  she  would  be  starting  south  in  spite  of 
us,"  retorted  Paul.  "Imagine  her  arriving  there 
and  finding  out —  It's  much  worse  than  she  knows; 
that  letter  only  tells  a  little.  There  are  others,  tell 
ing  more,  which  I  have  kept  back." 

"Did  you  really,  then,  keep  back  anything  !" 

"She'll  forgive  me.  She'll  forgive  me,  and  like 
me  better  than  ever;  you'll  see." 

"And  is  it  a  question  of  you  ?  It  is  her  husband, 
her  faith  in  him,  her  love  for  him,"  said  Eve,  passion 
ately. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  she  will  forgive  him  the  very  first 
moment  she  sees  him,"  answered  Paul,  going  off. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  Cicely 
sent  for  him.  "If  you  don't  still  believe  in  him,  if 
you  don't  still  love  him — "  she  began  the  instant  he 
entered,  her  poor  little  voice  trying  to  be  a  threat. 

"  Of  course  I  believe  in  him." 

"And  he  is  noble?  and  good?" 

"If  you  can  call  him  that — to-day — you  are  a 
trump,"  said  Paul,  delightedly. 

He  had  gained  his  point ;  and,  by  one  of  the  mir 
acles  of  love,  she  could  forgive  her  husband  and  ex- 

*  O 

cuse  his  fault ;  she  could  still  worship  him,  believe 
in  him.  Paul  also  believed  in  him,  but  in  another 
way.  And  upon  this  ground  they  met,  Paul  full  of 
admiration  for  what  he  called  her  pluck  and  com 
mon  -  sense  (both  were  but  love),  and  she  adoring 
him  for  his  unswerving  affection  for  his  brother. 
Paul  would  go  South  soon  ;  he  would — he  would 
make  arrangements.  She  pinned  all  her  faith  upon 
Paul  now ;  Paul  was  her  demi-god  because  he  be 
lieved  in  his  brother. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  185 

And  thus  the  camp-life  went  on  again. 

One  morning,  not  long  after  this,  Hollis  and  the 
judge  were  sitting  at  the  out-door  table,  engaged 
with  their  fishing-tackle.  Hollis  was  talking  of  the 
approaches  of  old  age. 

"Yes,  two  sure  signs  of  it  are  a  real  liking  for 
getting  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  a  promptness 
in  doing  little  things.  Contrariwise,  an  impatience 
with  the  younger  people,  who  don't  do  'em." 

"Stuff!"  said  the  judge.  "The  younger  people 
are  lazy;  that's  the  whole  of  it." 

"Yet  they  do  all  the  important  work  of  the 
world,"  Hollis  went  on;  "old  people  only  potter 
round.  Take  Paul,  now — he  ain't  at  all  keen  about 
getting  up  at  daylight ;  in  fact,  he  has  a  most  un 
common  genius  for  sleep  ;  but,  once  up,  he  makes 
things  drive  all  along  the  line,  I  can  tell  you.  Not 
the  trifles"  (here  Hollis's  voice  took  a  sarcastic 
tone) ;  "  not  what  borrowed  books  must  be  sent 
here,  nor  what  small  packages  left  there;  you  never 
saw  him  pasting  slips  out  of  a  newspaper  in  a  blank- 
book,  nor  being  particular  about  his  ink,  with  a  neat 
little  tray  for  pens  ;  the  things  he  concerns  himself 
about  are  big  things  :  ore  contracts,  machinery  for 
the  mines,  negotiations  with  thousands  of  dollars 
tacked  to  the  tail  of  'em." 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  the  judge,  with  a  dry  little 
yawn;  "Mr.  Tennant  is,  without  doubt,  an  excellent 
accountant." 

The  tone  of  this  remark,  however,  was  lost  upon 
Hollis.  "  That  Paul,  no\v,  has  done,  since  I've  known 
him,  at  least  twenty  things  that  I  couldn't  have  done 
myself,  any  one  of  them,  to  save  my  life,"  he  went 
on  ;  "and  yet  I'm  no  fool.  Not  that  they  were  \)\z 


186  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

undertakings,  like  the  Suez  Canal  or  the  capture  of 
Vicksburg ;  but  at  least  they  were  things  done,  and 
completely  done.  Have  you  ever  noticed  how 
mighty  easy  it  is  to  believe  that  you  could  do  all 
sorts  of  things  if  you  only  had  the  opportunity? 
The  best  way,  sir,  to  go  on  believing  that  is  never  to 
let  yourself  try  !  I  once  had  a  lot  of  that  kind  of 
fool  conceit  myself.  But  I  know  better  now  ;  I 
know  that  from  top  to  bottom  and  all  round  I'm  a 
failure." 

The  judge  made  no  effort  to  contradict  this  state 
ment;  lie  changed  the  position  of  his  legs  a  little,  by 
way  of  answer,  so  as  not  to  appear  too  discourteous. 

"I'm  a  failure  because  I  always  see  double,"  pur 
sued  Hollis,  meditatively;  "I'm  like  a  stereoscope 
out  of  kilter.  "When  I  was  practising  law,  the  man 
I  was  pitching  into  always  seemed  to  me  to  have  his 
good  side;  contrariwise,  the  man  I  was  defending 
had  his  bad  one;  and  rather  more  bad  because  my 
especial  business  was  to  make  him  out  a  capital  good 
fellow." 

There  was  a  sound  of  voices  ;  Paul  came  through 
the  wood  on  his  way  to  the  beach,  with  Cicely;  Eve, 
behind  them,  was  leading  Jack. 

"Are  you  going  out  again?"  said  the  judge. 

"Yes.  Paul  can  go  this  morning,"  Cicely  an 
swered. 

"  But  you  were  out  so  long  yesterday,"  said  the 
old  man,  following  them. 

"  Open  air  fatigue  is  a  good  fatigue,"  said  Paul, 
as  he  lifted  Cicely  into  one  of  the  canoes. 

The  judge  had  stopped  at  the  edge  of  the  beach  ; 
he  now  went  slowly  back  into  the  wood  and  joined 
Hollis. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  187 

"Your  turn,  Miss  Bruce,"  said  Paul.  And  Eve 
and  Jack  "were  placed  in  a  second  canoe.  One  of 
the  Indians  was  to  paddle  it,  but  he  was  not  quite 
ready.  Paul  and  Cicely  did  not  wait;  they  started. 

"  I's  a-goin'  \vis  old  Eve! — old  Eve! — old  Eve!" 

chanted  Jack,  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  to  the  tune  of 
"  Charley  is  my  darling,"  which  Ilollis  had  taught 
him. 

"Seems  mean  that  she  should  have  to  go  with  a 
Chip,  when  there  arc  white  men  round,"  said  Hollis. 

The  judge  made  no  reply. 

But  Eve  at  that  moment  called,  "  Mr.  Ilollis,  are 
you  busy?  If  not,  couldn't  you  come  with  me  in 
stead  of  this  man  ?" 

Hollis  advanced  to  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
made  a  bow.  "  I  am  exceedingly  pleased  to  accept. 
My  best  respects."  He  then  took  off  his  coat,  and, 
clucking  to  the  Indian  as  a  sign  of  dismissal,  he  got 
into  the  canoe  with  the  activity  of  a  boy,  and  pushed 
off. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day.  The  thick  woods  on  the 
shore  were  outlined  sharply  in  the  Northern  air 
against  the  blue  sky.  Ilollis  paddled  slowly. 

"Why  do  you  keep  so  far  behind  the  other  boat?" 
said  Eve,  after  a  while. 

"That's  so;  I'm  just  loafing,"  answered  Ilollis. 

"Christopher  II.,  paddle  right  along,"  he  went  on 
to  himself.  "You  needn't  be  so  afraid  that  Paul 
will  grin  ;  he'll  understand." 

And  Paul  did  understand.  At  the  end  of  half  an 
hour,  when  Eagle  Point  was  reached,  and  all  had 
disembarked,  he  came  to  Ilollis.  and  stood  beside 
him  for  a  moment. 


188  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"This  canoe  is  not  one  of  the  best,"  Hollis  re 
marked. 

"  No,"  said  Paul. 

"  I  think  we  can  make  it  do  for  a  while  longer, 
though,"  Hollis  went  on,  examining  it  more  closely. 

"I  dare  say  we  can,"  Paul  answered. 

They  stood  there  together  for  a  moment,  rapping 
it  and  testing  it  in  various  ways ;  then  they  sepa 
rated,  perfectly  understanding  each  other.  "  I  really 
didn't  try  to  come  with  her :"  this  was  the  secret 
meaning  of  Hollis's  remark  about  the  canoe. 

And  "  I  know  you  didn't,"  was  the  signification 
of  Paul's  answer. 

Cicely  and  Eve  were  sitting  on  the  beach.  It  was 
a  wild  shore,  clean,  untouched  by  man  ;  the  pure 
waters  of  the  lake  rolled  up  and  laved  its  glistening 
brown  pebbles.  Jack  ramped  up  and  down  against 
Eve's  knees.  "  Sing  to  Jacky — poor,  poor  Jacky  !" 
he  demanded  loudly. 

"  That  child  is  too  depressing  with  his  '  Poor 
Jacky'! "  said  Cicely.  "  Never  say  that  again,  Jack; 
do  you  hear?" 

"  Poor, poor  Jacky  !"  said  the  boy  immediately,  as 
though  he  were  irresistibly  forced  to  try  the  phrase 
again. 

"  He  heard  some  one  say  it  to  that  parrot  in  Port 
aux  Pins,"  explained  Eve. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  never  be  able  to  govern  him  !"  Cicely 
answered. 

"  Sing  to  Jacky,  Aunty  Eve — poor,poor  Jacky  !" 

And  in  a  low  tone  Eve  began  to  sing : 

'"  Eow  the  boat,  row  the  boat  up  to  the  strand; 
Before  our  door  there  is  dry  land. 
Who  comes  hither  all  booted  and  spurred? 
Little  Jacky  Bruce  with  his  hand  on  his  xicord.'" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  189 

Paul  came  up.  "Now  for  a  walk,"  he  said  to 
Cicely. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Paul.  But  if  I  sit  here  it  will  be 
lovely;  if  I  walk,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  be  too  tired." 

"  I'll  stay  here,  then;  I  am  not  at  all  keen  about  a 
tramp." 

"  No,  please  go.     And  take  Eve." 

"  Uncly  Paul,  not  old  Eve.  I  want  old  Eve,"  an 
nounced  Jack,  reasonably. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  mind  his  calling  you  that," 
said  Paul,  laughing. 

"  Why  should  I  ?"  Eve  answered.  "  I  don't  care 
for  a  walk,  thanks." 

"  Make  her  go,"  continued  Cicely;  march  her  off." 

"  Will  you  march  ?"  asked  Paul. 

"  Xot  without  a  drum  and  fife." 

Jack  was  now  cooing  without  cessation,  and  in  his 
most  insinuating  tones,  "  Sing  to  Jacky — poor,  poor 
Jacky.  Sing  to  Jacky — poor,  poor  Jacky  !" 

She  took  him  in  her  arms  and  walked  down  the 
beach  with  him,  going  on  with  her  song  in  a  low 
tone  : 

"  'He  knocks  at  the  door  and  lie  pulls  up  tlie  pin, 
And  he  says,  "Mrs.  Wingfield,  is  Polly  within?" 
"  Oh,  Polly's  up-stairs  a-xeicing  her  silk." 
Doicn  comes  Miss  Polly  as  white  as  milk.' " 

"  Eve  never  does  what  you  ask,  Paul,"  remarked 
Cicely. 

"  Do  I  ask  so  often  ?" 

"  I  wish  you  would  ask  her  oftener." 

"  To  be  refused  oftener  ?" 

"To  gain  your  point — to  conquer  her.  She  is  too 
self-willed — for  a  woman."  She  looked  at  Paul  with 
a  smile. 


190  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

The  tie  between  them  had  become  very  close,  and 
it  was  really  her  dislike  to  see  him  rebuffed,  even  in 
the  smallest  thing,  that  made  her  say,  alluding  to 
Eve,  "  Conquer  her  ;  she  is  too  self-willed — for  a 
woman." 

Paul  smiled.     "  I  shall  never  conquer  her." 

"Try,  begin  now;  make  her  think  that  you  want 
her  to  walk  with  you." 

"  But  I  don't." 

"  Can't  you  pretend  ?" 

"Why  should  I?" 

"  Well,  to  please  me." 

"You're  an  immoral  little  woman,"  said  Paul, 
laughing.  "I'll  go  ;  remember,  however,  that  you 
sent  me."  He  went  up  the  beach  to  meet  Eve,  who 
was  still  walking  to  and  fro,  singing  to  Jack,  Hollis 
accompanying  them  after  his  fashion;  that  is,  follow 
ing  behind,  and  stopping  to  skip  a  stone  carelessly 
when  they  stopped.  Paul  went  straight  to  Eve.  "I 
wish  you  would  go  with  me  for  a  Avalk,"  he  said. 
He  looked  at  her,  his  glance,  holding  hers,  slowly  be 
came  entreating.  The  silence  between  them  lasted 
an  appreciable  instant. 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Eve. 

Jack  seemed  to  understand  that  his  supremacy 
was  in  danger.  "No,  old  Eve — no.  I  want  old 
Eve,  Uncly  Paul,"  he  said,  in  his  most  persuasive 
voice.  Then,  to  make  himself  irresistible,  he  began 
singing  Eve's  song  : 

"'Who  pums  idder,  all  booted  an'  spurred? 

Little  Jacky  Bruce  viz  his  ban'  on  his  sicord.'" 

Hollis  came  up.  "  Were  you  wanting  to  go  off 
somewhere  ?  I'll  take  Jack." 

"  Old  man,  you  get  out,"  suggested  Jack,  calmly. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  191 

"Oh,  where  does  he  learn  such  things  ?"  said  Eve. 
She  thought  she  was  distressed — she  meant  to  be; 
but  there  was  an  undertide  of  joyousness,  which 
Ilollis  saw. 

"  On  the  contrary,  Jackum,  I'll  get  in,"  he  an 
swered.  "  If  it's  singing  you  want,  I  can  sing  very 
beautifully.  And  I  can  dance  too  ;  looker  here." 
And  skipping  across  the  beach  in  a  Fisher's  Horn 
pipe  step,  he  ended  with  a  pigeon's  wing. 

Jack,  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  sprang  up  and  down 
in  Eve's  arras.  "  'Gain  !  'gain  !"  he  cried,  imperi 
ously,  his  dimpled  forefinger  pointed  at  the  dancer. 

Again  Ilollis  executed  his  high  leap.  "  Now  you'll 
come  to  me,  I  guess,"  he  said.  And  Jack  went  read 
ily.  "  You  are  going  for  a  walk,  I  suppose  ?"  Holli? 
went  on.  "There's  nothing  very  much  in  these 
woods  to  make  it  lively."  He  had  noted  the  glow 
of  anticipation  in  her  face,  and  was  glad  that  he  had 
contributed  to  it.  But  when  he  turned  to  Paul,  ex 
pecting  as  usual  to  see  indifference,  he  did  not  see 
it;  and  instantly  his  feelings  changed,  he  felt  be' 
fooled. 

Jack  made  prodding  motions  with  his  knees. 
"  Dant  !  dant !" 

"  I'll  dance  in  a  few  minutes,  my  boy,"  said  Hollis. 

Paul  and  Eve  went  up  the  beach  and  turned  into 
the  wood.  It  was  a  magnificent  evergreen  forest 
without  underbrush;  above,  the  sunlight  was  shut 
out,  they  walked  in  a  gray-green  twilight.  The  still 
ness  was  so  intense  that  it  was  oppressive. 


192  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 


XIX. 

THEY  walked  for  some  distance  without  speaking. 
"  I  have  just  been  writing  to  Ferdie,"  Paul  said  at 
last. 

The  gray-green  wood  had  seemed  to  Eve  like  an 
other  world,  an  enchanted  land.  Now  she  was  forced 
back  to  real  life  again.  "  Oh,  if  he  would  only  say 
nothing — just  go  on  without  speaking;  it's  all  I  ask, 
she  thought. 

"  I  shall  go  down  there  in  ten  days  or  so,"  Paul 
went  on.  "  Ferdie  will  be  up  then — in  all  probabil 
ity  well.  I  shall  take  him  to  Charleston,  and  from 
there  we  shall  sail." 

"  Sail  ?" 

"  To  Norway." 

"  Norway  ?" 

"Didn't  I  tell  you? — I  have  made  up  my  mind 
that  a  long  voyage  in  a  sailing  vessel  will  be  the 
best  thing  for  him  just  now." 

"  And  you  go  too  ?" 

"  Of  course." 

"  Four  or  five  weeks,  perhaps  ?" 

"Four  or  five  months;  as  it  grows  colder,  we  can 
come  down  to  the  Mediterranean." 

A  chill  crept  slowly  over  Eve.  "Was  it — wasn't 
it  difficult  to  arrange  for  so  long  an  absence  ?" 

"  As  Hollis  would  phrase  it, '  You  bet  it  was  !' " 
answered  Paul,  laughing.  "  I  shall  come  back  with 
out  a  cent  in  either  pocket;  but  I've  been  centless 
before — I'm  not  terrified." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  193 

"If  you  would  only  take  some  of  mine  !" 

"You  will  have  Cicely.  We  shall  both  have  our 
hands  full." 

She  looked  up  at  him  more  happily;  they  were  to 
be  associated  together  in  one  way,  then,  after  all. 
But  a  vision  followed,  a  realization  of  the  blankness 
that  was  to  come.  Less  than  two  weeks  and  he 
would  be  gone  ! 

"  When  the  journey  is  over,  shall  you  bring  Fer- 
die  to  Port  aux  Pins?" 

"  That  depends.  On  the  whole,  I  think  not;  Fer- 
die  would  hate  the  place;  it's  comical  what  tastes  he 
has — that  boy  !  My  idea  is  that  he  will  do  better  in 
South  America ;  he  has  already  made  a  beginning 
there,  and  likes  the  life.  This  time  he  can  take  Cice 
ly  with  him,  and  that  will  steady  him;  he  will  go  to 
housekeeping,  he  will  be  a  family  man."  And  Paul 
smiled  ;  to  him,  Ferdie  was  still  the  lad  of  fifteen 
years  before. 

But  in  Eve's  mind  rose  a  recollection  of  the  light 
of  a  candle  far  down  a  narrow  road.  "Oh,  don't  let 
her  go  with  him  !  Don't !" 

Paul  stopped.  "  You  are  sometimes  so  frightened, 
I  have  noticed  that.  And  yet  you  are  no  coward. 
What  happened — really  ?  What  did  you  do  ?" 

She  could  not  speak. 

"  I'm  a  brute  to  bother  you  about  it,"  Paul  went 
on.  "  But  I  have  always  felt  sure  that  you  did  more 
that  night  than  you  have  ever  acknowledged;  Cice 
ly  couldn't  tell  us,  you  see,  because  she  had  fainted. 
How  strange  you  look  !  Are  you  ill  ?" 

"It  is  nothing.     Let  us  walk  on." 

"  As  you  please." 

"  If  they  go  to  South  America,  why  shouldn't  you 
13 


194  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

go  with  them?"  he  said,  after  a  while,  returning  to 
'us  first  topic.  "  You  will  have  to  go  if  you  want 
to  keep  a  hold  on  Jack,  for  Cicely  will  never  give 
him  up  to  you  for  good  and  all,  as  you  have  hoped. 
If  you  were  with  them,  I  should  feel  a  great  deal 
safer." 

Well,  that  was  something.  Was  this,  then,  to  be 
her  occupation  for  the  future — by  a  watch  over  Fer- 
die,  to  make  his  brother  more  comfortable  ?  She 
tried  to  give  a  sarcastic  turn  to  this  idea.  But  again 
the  feeling  swept  over  her:  Oh,  if  it  had  only  been 
any  one  but  Ferdinand  Morrison  ! — Ferdinand  Mor 
rison  ! 

"How  you  shuddered  !"  said  Paul.  Walking  be 
side  her,  he  had  felt  her  tremble.  "You  certainly 
are  ill." 

"  No.  But  don't  let  us  talk  of  any  of  those  things 
to-day,  let  us  forget  them." 

"  How  can  we  ?" 

"/can  !"  The  color  rose  suddenly  in  her  cheeks; 
for  the  moment  she  was  bcautif ul.  "  My  last  walk 
with  him!  When  he  is  gone,  the  days  will  be  a  blank." 

— "It  is  my  last  walk  with  you  !"  she  said  aloud, 
pursuing  the  current  of  her  thoughts. 

He  looked  at  her  askance. 

His  glance  brought  her  back  to  reality.  She 
turned  and  left  him;  she  walked  rapidly  towards  the 
lake,  coming  out  on  the  beach  beyond  Eagle  Point. 

He  followed  her,  and,  as  he  came  up,  his  eyes  took 
possession  of  and  held  hers,  as  they  had  done  before; 
then,  after  a  moment,  he  put  his  arm  round  her, 
drew  her  to  him,  and  bent  his  face  to  hers. 

She  tried  to  spring  from  him.  But  he  still  held 
her.  "  What  shall  I  say  to  excuse  myself,  Eve?" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  195 

The  tones  of  his  voice  were  very  sweet.  But  he 
was  smiling  a  little  too.  She  saw  it;  she  broke  from 
his  grasp. 

"  You  look  as  though  you  could  kill  me !"  he 
said. 

(And  she  did  look  so.) 

"Forgive  me,"  he  went  on  ;  "tell  me  you  don't 
mind." 

"  I  should  have  thought — that  what  I  confessed  to 
you — you  know,  that  day — 

But  there  were  no  subtleties  in  Paul.  "  Why,  that 
was  the  very  reason,"  he  answered.  "  What  did 
you  tell  me  for,  if  you  didn't  want  me  to  think  of 
it  ?"  Then  he  took  a  lighter  tone.  "  Come,  forget 
it.  It  was  nothing. — What's  one  kiss  ?" 

Eve  colored  deeply. 

And  then,  suddenly,  Paul  Tennant  colored  too. 

He  turned  his  head  away,  and  his  glance,  resting 
on  the  water,  was  stopped  by  something — a  dark  ob 
ject  Heating.  He  put  up  a  hand  on  each  side  of  his 
face  and  looked  more  steadily.  "Yes.  Xo.  Yes! 
There's  a  icoman  out  there — lashed  to  something. 
I  must  go  out  and  see."  He  had  thrown  his  hat 
down  upon  the  sand  as  he  spoke  ;  he  was  hastily 
taking  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  his  shoes  and  stock 
ings  ;  then  he  waded  out  rapidly,  and  when  the  rock 
shelved  off,  he  began  to  swim. 

Eve  stood  watching  him  mechanically.  "He  has 
already  forgotten  it  !" 

Paul  reached  the  dark  object.  Then,  after  a  short 
delay,  she  could  see  that  he  was  trying  to  bring  it  in. 

But  his  progress  was  slow. 

"  Oh,  there  must  be  something  the  matter  !  Per 
haps  a  cramp  has  seized  him."  A  terrible  impa- 


]90  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

tience  took  possession  of  her  ;  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  hear  her,  yet  she  cried  to  him  at  the  top  of 
her  voice,  and  fiercely  :  "Let  it  go  !  Let  it  go,  I 
say  !  Come  in  alone.  Who  cares  for  it,  whatever  it 
is  ?"  It  was  not  until  his  burden  lay  on  the  beach 
that  she  could  turn  her  mind  from  him  in  the  least, 
or  think  of  what  he  had  brought. 

The  burden  was  a  girl  of  ten,  a  fair  child  with  gold 
en  curls,  now  heavy  with  water  ;  her  face  was  calm,- 
the  eyes  peacefully  closed.  She  had  been  lashed  to 
a  plank  by  somebody's  hand — whose?  Her  father's? 
Or  had  it  been  done  by  a  sobbing  mother,  praying, 
while  she  worked,  that  she  and  her  little  daughter 

*  O 

might  meet  again. 

"  It's  dreadful,  when  they're  so  young,"  said  big 
Paul,  bending  over  the  body  reverently  to  loosen 
the  ropes.  lie  finished  his  task,  and  straightened 
himself.  "A  collision  or  a  fire.  If  it  was  a  fire, 
they  must  have  seen  it  from  Jupiter  Light."  He 
scanned  the  lake.  "  Perhaps  there  are  others  who 
are  not  dead  ;  I  must  have  one  of  the  canoes  at  once. 
I'll  go  by  the  beach.  You  had  better  follow  me." 
He  put  on  his  shoes,  and,  dripping  as  he  was,  he  was 
off  again  like  a  flash,  running  towards  the  west  at  a 
vigorous  speed. 

Eve  watched  him  until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Then 
she  sat  down  beside  the  little  girl  and  begun  to  dry 
her  pretty  curls,  one  by  one,  with  her  handkerchief. 
Even  then  she  kept  thinking,  "  He  has  forgotten  it  !" 

By-and-by — it  seemed  to  her  a  long  time — she  saw 
a  canoe  coming  round  the  point.  It  held  but  one 
person  —  Paul.  He  paddled  rapidly  towards  her. 
"Why  didnt  you  follow  me,  as  I  told  you  to?"  he 
said,  almost  angrily.  "  Hollis  has  gone  back  to  the 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  197 

camp  for  more  canoes  and  the  Indians;  he  took  Cice 
ly,  and  he  ought  to  have  taken  you." 

"I  wanted  to  stay  here." 

"  You  will  be  in  the  way  ;  drowned  people  are  not 
always  a  pleasant  sight.  Sit  where  you  are,  then, 
since  you  are  here  ;  if  I  come  across  anything,  I'll 
row  in  at  a  distance  from  you." 

He  paddled  off  again. 

But  before  very  long  she  saw  him  returning. 
"Are  you  really  not  afraid?"  he  asked,  as  his  capoe 
grated  on  the  beach. 

"  No/' 

"There's  some  one  out  there.  But  I  find  I  can't 
lift  anything  into  this  canoe  alone — it's  so  tottlish  ; 
I  could  swim  and  tow,  though,  if  I  had  the  canoe  as 
a  help.  Can  you  paddle  '?" 

"  Yes." 

"Get  in,  then."  He  stepped  out  of  the  boat,  and 
she  took  his  place.  He  pushed  it  off  and  waded  be 
side  her  until  the  Avater  came  to  his  chin  ;  then  he 
began  to  swim,  directing  her  course  by  a  movement 
of  his  head.  She  used  her  paddle  very  cautiously, 
now  on  one  side,  now  on  the  other,  the  whole  force 
of  her  attention  bent  upon  keeping  the  little  craft 
steady.  After  a  while,  chancing  to  raise  her  eyes, 
she  saw  something  dark  ahead.  Fear  seized  her,  she 
could  not  look  at  it  ;  she  felt  faint.  At  the  same 
moment,  Paul  left  her,  swimming  towards  the  float 
ing  thing.  Yvrith  a  determined  effort  at  self-control, 
she  succeeded  in  turning  the  canoe,  and  waited  stead 
ily  until  Paul  gave  the  sign.  Keeping  her  eyes 
carefully  away  from  that  side,  she  then  started  back 
towards  the  shore,  Paul  convoying  his  floating  freight 
a  little  behind  her.  As  they  approached  the  beach, 


198  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

he  made  a  motion  signifying  that  she  should  take 
the  canoe  farther  down  ;  when  she  was  safely  at  a 
distance,  he  brought  his  tow  ashore.  It  was  the 
body  of  a  sailor.  The  fragment  of  deck  planking 
to  which  he  was  tied  had  one  end  charred  ;  this  told 
the  dreadful  tale — fire  at  sea. 

The  sailor  was  dead,  though  it  was  some  time  be 
fore  Paul  would  acknowledge  it.  At  length  he  desist 
ed  from  his  efforts.  lie  came  down  the  beach  to 
Eve,  wiping  his  forehead  with  his  wet  sleeve.  "No 
use,  he's  dead.  I  am  going  out  again." 

"I  will  go  with  you,  then." 

"  If  you  are  not  too  tired  ?" 

They  went  out  a  second  time.  They  saw  another 
dark  object  half  under  water.  Again  the  sick  feel 
ing  seized  her  ;  but  she  turned  the  canoe  safely,  and 
they  came  in  with  their  load.  This  time,  when  he 
dismissed  her,  she  went  back  to  the  little  girl,  and, 
landing,  sat  down  ;  she  was  very  tired. 

After  a  while  she  heard  sounds — four  canoes  com 
ing  rapidly  round  the  point,  the  Indians  using  their 
utmost  speed.  She  rose  ;  Ilollis,  who  was  in  the 
first  canoe,  saw  her,  and  directed  his  course  towards 
her.  "Why  did  you  stay  here?"  he  demanded, 
sternly,  as  he  saw  the  desolate  little  figure  of  the 
child. 

Eve  began  to  excuse  herself.  "  I  was  of  use  be 
fore  you  came  ;  I  went  out  ;  I  helped." 

"  Paul  shouldn't  have  asked  you." 

"He  had  to  ;  he  couldn't  do  it  alone." 

"  He  shouldn't  have  asked  you."  He  went  off  to 
Paul,  and  she  sat  down  again  ;  she  took  up  her  task 
of  drying  the  golden  curls.  After  a  while  the  sound 
of  voices  ceased,  and  she  knew  that  they  had  all  gone 


JUPITEU    LIGHTS.  199 

out  on  the  lake  for  further  search.  She  went  on 
with  what  she  was  doing  ;  but  presently,  in  the  still 
ness,  she  began  to  feel  that  she  must  turn  and  look; 
she  was  haunted  by  the  idea  that  one  of  the  men 
who  had  been  supposed  to  be  dead  was  stealing  up 
noiselessly  to  look  over  her  shoulder.  She  turned. 
And  then  she  saw  Hollis  sitting  not  far  away. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  you  are  there  !" 

Hollis  rose  and  came  nearer,  seating  himself  again 
([iiit'tly.  "I  thought  1  wouldn't  leave  you  all  alone." 

She  scanned  the  water.  The  five  canoes  were 
clustered  together  far  out  ;  presently,  still  together, 
they  moved  in  towards  the  shore. 

"They  are  bringing  in  some  one  else  !" 

"Sha'n't  we  go  farther  away?"  suggested  Hollis 
— "farther  towards  the  point?  I'll  go  with  you." 

"  No,  I  shall  stay  with  this  little  girl  ;  I  do  not  in 
tend  to  leave  her.  You  won't  understand  this,  of 
course;  only  a  woman  would  understand  it." 

"Oh,  I  understand,"  said  Hollis. 

But  Eve  ignored  him.  "  The  canoes  are  keeping 
all  together  in  a  way  they  haven't  done  before.  Do 
you  think — oh,  it  must  be  that  they  have  got  some 
one  who  is  living!" 

"It's  possible!" 

"  They  are  holding  something  up  so  carefully." 
She  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  I  am  sure  I  saw  it  move  ! 
Paul  has  really  saved  somebody.  IIow  can  you  sit 
there,  Mr.  Hollis  ?  Go  and  find  out !" 

Ilollis  went.     In  twenty  minutes  he  came  back. 

"  Well  ?"  said  Eve,  breathlessly. 

"  Yes,  there's  a  chance  for  this  one  ;  he'll  come 
round,  I  guess." 

"Paul  has  saved  him." 


200  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"I  don't  know  that  he's  much  worth  the  saving  ; 
he  looks  a  regular  scalawag." 

"How  can  you  say  that — a  human  life  !" 

Hollis  looked  down  at  the  sand,  abashed. 

"Couldn't  I  go  over  there  for  a  moment?"  Eve 
said,  still  excitedly  watching  the  distant  group. 

"  Better  not." 

"  Tell  me  just  how  Paul  did  it,  then  ?"  she  asked. 
"For  of  course  it  was  he,  the  Indians  don't  know 
anything." 

"  Well,  I  can't  say  how  exactly.  He  brought  him 
in." 

"  Isn't  he  wonderful !" 

"I  have  always  thought  him  the  cleverest  fellow 
I  have  ever  known,"  responded  poor  Hollis,  stoutly. 

The  next  day  the  little  girl,  freshly  robed  and 
fair,  was  laid  to  rest  in  the  small  forest  burying- 
ground  belonging  to  Jupiter  Light  ;  Eve  had  not 
left  her.  There  were  thirty  new  mounds  there  be 
fore  the  record  was  finished. 

"Steamer  Maylicw  burned,  Tuesday  night,  ten 
miles  east  Jupiter  Light,  Lake  Superior.  Fifteen 
persons  known  to  be  saved.  Mayhew  carried  twenty 
cabin  ncssengers  and  thirty-five  emigrants.  Total 
loss  ''  (Associated  Press  despatch.) 

Soon  after  this  the  camp  was  abandoned;  as  Paul 
was  to  go  south  so  soon,  he  could  not  give  any  more 
time  to  forest-life,  and  they  all,  therefore,  returned 
to  Port  aux  Pins  together.  Once  there  Paul  seemed 
to  have  no  thought  for  anything  but  his  business  af 
fairs.  And  Eve,  in  her  heart,  said  again,  "  He  has 
forgotten  !" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  201 


XX. 

FOURTH  OF  JULY  at  Port  aux  Pins  ;  a  brilliant 
morning  with  the  warm  sun  tempering  the  cool  air, 
and  shining  on  the  pure  cold  blue  of  the  lake. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  cannon  began  to  boom  ;  the 
guns  were  planted  at  the  ends  of  the  piers,  and  the 
men  of  the  Port  aux  Pins  Light  Artillery  held  them 
selves  erect,  trying  to  appear  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  whole  town  behind  them,  eating  pea 
nuts,  and  criticising. 

The  salute  over,  the  piers  were  deserted,  the  pro 
cession  was  formed.  The  following  was  the  order  as 
printed  in  the  Port  aux  Pins  Eagle : 

"The  Marshal  of  the  Day. 

The  Goddess  of  Liberty.    (Parthenia  Drone.) 

The  Clergy.     (In  carriages.) 

Fire-Engine  E.  P.  Snow. 
The  Mayor  and  Common  Council.     (In  carriages.) 

Hook  and  Ladder  No.  1. 

The  Immortal  Colonies.  (Thirteen  little  girls  in  a  wagon, 
singing  the  'lied.  White,  and  Blue.') 

Fire-Engine  Leander  Braddock. 

The  Carnival  of  Venice.  (This  WHS  a  tableau.  It  repre 
sented  the  facade  of  a  Venetian  palace,  skilfully  constructed 
upon  the  model  of  the  Parthenon,  with  Wolf  Roth  in  an  In 
dian  canoe  below,  playing  upon  his  guitar.  Wolf  was  attired, 
as  a  Venetian,  in  a  turban,  a  spangled  jacket,  high  cavalry 
boots  with  spurs,  and  powdered  hair  ;  Idora  Drone  looked 
down  upon  him  from  a  Venetian  balcony;  she  represented  a 
Muse.) 

Reader  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  Orator  of 
the  Day.  (In  carriages.) 

The  Survivors  of  the  War.     (On  foot  with  banners.) 


202  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Model  of  Monument  to  Our  Fallen  Heroes. 
The  Band.     (Playing  '  The  Sweet  By-and-By.') 
"Widows  of  Our  Fallen  Heroes.     (In  carriages.) 

Fire-Engine  Senator  M.  P.  Ilagen. 

The  Arts  and  Sciences.  (Represented  by  the  portable- 
printing-press  of  the  Port  aux  Pins  Eagle ;  wagons  from  the 
mines  loaded  with  iron  ore  ;  and  the  drays,  coal-carts,  and 
milk- wagons  in  a  procession,  adorned  with  streamers  of  pink 
tarlatan)." 

Cicely  watched  the  procession  from  the  windows 
of  Paul's  office,  laughing  constantly.  When  Hollis 
passed,  sitting  stiffly  erect  in  his  carriage — he  was 
the  "  Reader  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  " 
— she  threw  a  bouquet  at  him,  and  compelled  him  to 
bow;  Hollis  was  adorned  with  a  broad  scarf  of  white 
satin,  fastened  on  the  right  shoulder  with  the  na 
tional  colors. 

"  I  am  going  to  the  public  square  to  hear  him 
read,"  Cicely  announced,  suddenly.  "  Paul,  you 
must  take  me.  And  you  must  go  too,  grandpa." 

"  I  will  keep  out  of  the  rabble,  I  think,"  said  the 
judge. 

"Oh,  come  on;  I  dare  say  you  have  never  heard 
the  thing  read  through  in  your  life,"  suggested  Paul, 
laughing. 

"  The  Declaration  of  Independence  ?  My  grand 
father,  sir,  was  a  signer  !" 

The  one  church  bell  (Baptist)  and  the  two  little 
fire  bells  were  jangling  merrily  when  they  readied 
the  street.  People  were  hurrying  towards  the  square; 
many  of  them  were  delegates  from  neighboring 
towns  who  had  accompanied  their  fire-engines  to 
Port  aux  Pins  on  this,  the  nation's  birthday.  White 
dresses  were  abundant;  the  favorite  refreshment  was 
a  lemon  partially  scooped  out,  the  hollow  filled  with 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  203 

lemon  candy.  When  they  reached  the  square  Paul 
established  Cicely  on  the  top  of  a  fence,  standing 
behind  to  steady  her;  and  presently  the  procession 
appeared,  wheeling  slowly  in,  and  falling  into  posi 
tion  in  a  half-circle  before  the  main  stand,  the  gayly 
decorated  fire-engines  in  front,  with  the  Carnival  of 
Venice  and  the  Goddess  of  Liberty,  one  at  each  end. 
The  clergy,  the  mayor  and  common  council,  the 
orator  of  the  day,  were  escorted  to  their  places  on 
the  stand,  and  the  ceremonies  opened.  By-and-by 
came  the  turn  of  Hollis.  In  a  high  voice  he  began: 

"  When  in  the  course — of  human  events,  it  becomes 
necessary  for  one  people  to  dissolve  the  political 
bands  which  have  connected  them  with  another — " 

"  Cheer  !"  whispered  Cicely  to  Paul. 

Paul,  entering  into  it,  set  up  hurrahs  with  so  much 
vigor  that  all  the  people  near  him  joined  in  patrioti 
cally,  to  the  confusion  of  the  reader,  who  went  on, 
however,  as  well  as  he  could : 

"  We  hold  these  truths — to  be  self-evident,  that  all 
men  are  created  equal — 

"  Ag;*in,"  murmured  Cicely. 

And  again  Paul's  corner  burst  forth  irrepressibly, 
followed  after  a  moment  by  the  entire  assemblage, 
glad  to  be  doing  something  in  a  vocal  way  on  their 
own  account,  and  determined  to  have  their  money's 
worth  of  everything,  noise  and  all. 

And  so,  from  "  the  present  king  of  Great  Britain  " 
to  "  our  lives,  our  forrchuns,  and  our  sacrrcd  honor" 
on  it  went,  a  chorus  of  hurrahs  growing  louder  and 
louder  until  they  became  roars. 

"  I  knew  it  was  you,"  Hollis  said  to  Paul,  when, 
later,  his  official  duties  over,  and  his  satin  scarf  re 
moved,  he  appeared  at  the  cottage  to  talk  it  over. 


204  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

"But  say,  did  you  notice  the  widows  of  our  fallen 
heroes  ?  They  had  a  sort  of  glare  under  their  crape. 
You  see,  once  we  had  eight  of  'em,  but  this  year 
there  is  only  one  left;  all  the  rest  have  married 
again.  Now  it  happens  that  this  very  year  the  Sol 
diers'  Monument  is  done  at  last,  and  naturally  the 
committee  wanted  the  widows  to  ride  in  the  proces 
sion.  The  one  widow  who  was  left  declared  that  she 
would  not  ride  all  alone;  she  said  it  would  look  as 
though  no  one  had  asked  her,  whereas  she  had  had 
at  least  three  good  offers.  So  the  committee  went 
to  the  others  and  asked  them  to  dress  up  as  former 
widows,  just  for  to-day.  So  they  did;  and  lots  of 
people  cried  when  they  came  along,  two  and  two, 
all  in  black,  so  pathetic."  He  sprang  up  to  greet 
Eve,  who  Avas  entering,  and  the  foot-board  entangled 
itself  with  his  feet,  after  the  peculiarly  insidious 
fashion  of  extension-chairs.  "Instrument  of  tor- 
ure  !"  he  said,  grinning. 

"  I  will  leave  it  to  you  in  my  will,"  declared  Paul. 
"  And  it  is  just  as  well  to  say  it  now,  before  wit 
nesses,  because  I  am  going  away  to-morrow." 

"To-morrow  !"  said  Cicely. 

"Only  to  Lakeville  on  business.  I  shall  be  back 
the  day  before  I  start  south." 

"  There  go  the  last  few  hours  !"  thought  Eve. 

The  third  evening  after,  Hollis  came  up  the  path 
to  Paul's  door.  The  judge,  Eve,  Cicely,  and  Porley 
with  Jack,  were  sitting  on  the  steps,  after  the  Port 
aux  Pins  fashion.  They  had  all  been  using  their  best 
blandishments  to  induce  Master  Jack  to  go  to  bed; 
but  that  young  gentleman  refused;  he  played  patty- 
cake  steadily  with  Porley,  looking  at  the  others  out 
of  the  corner  of  his  eye;  and  if  Porley  made  the 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  205 

least  attempt  to  rise,  he  sot  up  loud  bewailings,  with 
his  face  screwed,  but  without  a  tear.  It  was  sus 
pected  that  these  were  pure  artifice;  and  not  one  of 
his  worshippers  could  help  admiring  his  sagacity. 
They  altogether  refrained  from  punishing  it. 

"I  was  at  the  post-office,  so  I  thought  I'd  just  in 
quire  for  you,"  said  Ilollis.  "  Theje  was  only  one 
letter;  it's  for  Miss  Bruce." 

Eve  took  the  letter  and  put  it  in  her  pocket.  She 
had  recognized  the  handwriting  instantly. 

Ilollis,  who  also  knew  the  handwriting,  began  to 
praise  himself  in  his  own  mind  as  rapidly  as  he 
could  for  bringing  it.  "  It  was  a  good  thing  to  do, 
and  a  kind  thing;  you  must  manage  jobs  like  that 
for  her  often,  C.  Ilollis.  Then  you'll  be  sure  that 
you  ain't,  yourself,  a  plumb  fool.  She  doesn't  open 
it  ?  Of  course  she  doesn't.  Sit  down,  and  stop  your 
jawing  !" 

Eve  did  not  open  her  letter  until  she  reached  her 
own  room.  It  was  eleven  o'clock;  when  she  was 
safely  behind  her  bolted  door,  she  took  it  from  its 
envelope  and  read  it.  She  read  it  and  re-read  it; 
holding  it  in  her  hand,  she  pondered  over  it.  She 
was  standing  by  the  mantelpiece  because  her  lamp 
was  there.  After  a  while  she  became  half  conscious 
that  the  soles  of  her  feet  were  aching;  she  bore  it 
some  time  longer,  still  half  consciously.  When  it 
was  one  o'clock  she  sat  down.  The  letter  was  as 
follows: 

"  DEAR  EVE, — Now  that  I  am  away  from  her,  I  can  see  that 
Cicely  is  not  so  well  as  we  have  thought.  All  that  laughing 
yesterday  morning  wasn't  natural;  I  am  afraid  that  she  will 
break  down  completely  when  I  start  south.  So  I  write  to 
suggest  that  you  take  her  off  for  a  trip  of  ten  days  or  so; 


206  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

you  might  go  to  St.  Paul.     Then  she  needn't  see  me  at  all, 
and  it  really  would  be  better. 
"As  to  seeing  you  again — 

"  Yours  sincerely,  PAUL  TENNANT." 

"  "Why  did  he  write,  '  As  to  seeing  you  again,'  and 
then  stop  ?  What  was  it  that  he  had  intended  to  say, 
and  why  did  he, leave  it  unfinished?  'As  to  seeing 
you  again —  Supposing  it  had  been,  '  As  to  seeing 
you  again,  I  dread  it  !'  But  no,  he  would  never  say 
that;  he  doesn't  dread  anything — me  least  of  all ! 
Probably  it  was  only,  'As  to  seeing  you  again,  there 
would  be  nothing  gained  by  it;  it  would  be  for  such 
a  short  time.'  " 

But  imagination  soon  took  flight  anew.  "  Possi 
bly,  remembering  that  day  in  the  wood,  he  was  go 
ing  to  write,  'As  to  seeing  you  again,  do  you  wish 
to  see  me?  Is  it  really  true  that  you  care  for  me  a 
little?  It  was  so  brave  to  tell  it  !  A  petty  spirit 
could  never  have  done  it.'  But  no,  that  is  not  what 
he  would  have  thought;  he  likes  the  other  kind  of 
women — those  who  do  not  tell."  She  laid  her  head 
down  upon  her  arms. 

Presently  she  began  again  :  "  He  had  certainly  in 
tended  to  write  something  which  he  found  himself 
unable  to  finish;  the  broken  sentence  tells  that. 
What  could  it  have  been  ?  Any  ordinary  sentence, 
like,  '  As  to  seeing  you  again,  it  is  not  necessary,  as 
you  know  already  my  plans,' — if  it  had  been  any 
thing  like  that,  he  would  have  finished  it;  it  would 
have  been  easy  to  do  so.  No;  it  was  something  dif 
ferent.  Oh,  if  it  could  only  have  been,  'As  to  see 
ing  you  again,  I  must  see  you,  it  must  be  managed 
in  some  way  ;  I  cannot  go  without  a  leave-taking  !'  " 
She  sat  up;  her  eyes  were  now  radiant  and  sweet. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  20? 

Their  glance  happened  to  fall  upon  her  watch,  which 
was  lying,  case  open,  upon  the  taule.  Four  o'clock. 
"  I  have  sat  here  all  night  !  I  am  losing  my  wits."  She 
undressed  rapidly,  angrily.  Clad  in  white,  she  stood 
brushing  her  hair,  her  supple  figure  taking,  all  un 
consciously,  enchanting  postures  as  she  now  held  a 
long  lock  at  arm's-length,  and  now,  putting  her 
right  hand  over  her  shoulder,  brushed  out  the  gold 
en  mass  that  fell  from  the  back  of  her  head  to  her 
knees.  "  But  he  must  have  intended  to  write  some 
thing  unusual,  even  if  not  of  any  of  the  things  I 
have  been  thinking  of;  then  he  changed  his  mind. 
That  is  the  only  solution  of  his  leaving  it  unfinished 
— the  only  possible  solution."  This  thought  still 
filled  her  heart  when  daylight  came. 

The  evening  before,  sitting  in  the  bar-room  of  the 
Star  Hotel,  Lakeville,  Paul  had  written  his  letter. 
He  had  got  as  far  as,  "  Then  she  needn't  see  me  at 
all,  and  it  really  would  be  better.  As  to  seeing  you 
again,"  when  a  voice  said,  "  Hello,  Tennant ! — busy  ?" 

"Nothing  important,"  replied  Paul,  pushing  back 
the  sheet  of  paper. 

The  visitor  shook  hands;  then  he  seated  himself, 
astride,  on  one  of  the  bar-room  chairs,  facing  the 
wooden  back,  which  he  hugged  tightly.  He  had 
come  to  talk  about  Paul's  Clay  County  iron;  he  had 
one  or  two  ideas  about  it  which  he  thought  might 
come  to  something. 

Paul,  too,  thought  that  they  might  come  to  some 
thing  when  he  heard  what  they  were.  He  was  ex 
cited;  he  began  to  jot  down  figures  on  the  envelope 
which  he  had  intended  for  Eve.  Finally  he  and  the 
new-comer  went  out  together;  before  going  he  put 
the  letter  in  his  pocket. 


208  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

When  he  came  in,  it  was  late.  "  First  mail  to 
Port  aux  Pins?"  he  inquired. 

"  Five  o'clock  to-morrow  morning,"  replied  the 
drowsy  waiter. 

"Must  finish  it  to-night,  then,"  he  thought.  lie, 
took  out  the  crumpled  sheet,  and,  opening  it,  read 
through  what  he  had  written.  "  What  was  it  I  was 
going  to  add  ?"  He  tried  to  recall  the  train  of 
thought.  But  he  was  sleepy  (as  Hollis  said,  Paul 
had  a  genius  for  sleep);  besides,  his  mind  was  occu 
pied  l>y  the  new  business  plan.  "I  haven't  the 
slightest  idea  what  I  was  going  to  say. — A  clear 
profit  of  fifty  thousand  in  four  years;  that  isn't  bad. 
Ferdie  will  need  a  good  deal.  Ye-ough  !"  (a  yawn). 
"  What  icas  it  I  was  going  to  say  ? — I  can't  imagine. 
Well,  it  couldn't  have  been  important,  in  any  case. 
I'll  just  sign  it,  and  let  it  go."  So  he  wrote,  "Yours 
sincerely,  Paul  Tennant;"  and  went  to  bed. 


XXI. 

PAUL  came  back  to  Port  aux  Pins  five  days  before 
the  time  of  his  departure  for  the  South.  Cicely  was 
still  there.  She  had  refused  to  go  to  St.  Paul.  "  The 
only  Paul  I  care  for  is  the  one  here.  What  an  i-dea, 
Eve,  that  I  should  choose  just  this  moment  for  a 
trip  !  It  looks  as  though  you  were  trying  to  keep 
me  away  from  him." 

"I'm  not  trying;  it's  Paul,"  Eve  might  have  an 
swered. 

"  It  must  be  curious  to  be  such  a  cold  sort  of  per 
son  as  you  are,"  Cicely  went  on,  looking  at  her. 
"  You  have  only  one  feeling  that  ever  gives  you 
any  trouble,  haven't  you  ?  That's  anger." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  209 

"  I  am  never  angry  with  you,"  Eve  answered, 
with  the  humility  which  she  always  showed  when 
Cicely  made  her  cutting  little  speeches. 

Paul  had  been  right.  As  the  time  of  his  depart 
ure  for  llomney  drew  near.  Cicely  grew  restless. 
She  was  seized  with  fits  of  wild  weeping.  At  last, 
when  there  were  only  two  days  left,  Paul  proposed 
a  drive — anything  to  change,  even  if  only  upon  the 
surface,  the  current  of  her  thoughts.  "  We  will  go 
to  Betsy  Lake,  and  pay  a  visit  to  the  antiquities." 

The  mine  at  Betsy  Lake — the  Lac  aux  Becs-Scies 
of  the  early  Jesuit  explorers — had  been  abandoned. 
Recently  traces  of  work  there  in  prehistoric  times 
had  been  discovered,  witli  primitive  tools  which  ex 
cited  interest  in  the  minds  of  antiquarians.  The 
citizens  of  Port  aux  Pins  were  not  antiquarians; 
they  said  "Mound  Builders;"  and  troubled  them 
selves  no  more  about  it. 

"  We  had  better  spend  the  night  at  the  butter- 
woman's,"  Paul  suggested.  "It  is  too  far  for  one 
day." 

Eve  did  not  go  with  the  party.  They  had  started 
at  three  o'clock,  intending  to  visit  a  hill  from  which 
there  wras  an  extensive  view,  before  going  on  to  the 
butter- woman's  farm-house.  At  four  she  herself 
went  out  for  a  solitary  walk. 

As  she  was  passing  a  group  of  wretched  shanties, 
beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  a  frightened  woman 
came  out  of  one  of  them,  calling  loudly, "  Mrs.  Halley  ! 
oh,  Mrs.  Halley,  your  I/yddy  is  dying  /" 

A  second  woman,  who  was  hanging  out  clothes, 
dropped  the  garment  she  had  in  her  hand  and  ran 
within;  Eve  followed  her.  A  young  girl,  who  ap 
peared  to  be  in  a  spasm,  occupied  the  one  bed,  a 
14 


210  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

poor  one;  the  mother  rushed  to  her.  In  a  few  min 
utes  the  danger  was  over,  and  the  girl  fell  into  a 
heavy  sleep. 

"  That  Mrs.  Sullivan — she's  too  sprightly,"  said 
Mrs.  Ilalley,  after  she  had  dismissed  her  frightened 
neighbor.  "  I  just  invited  her  to  sit  here  trenquiU;/ 
while  I  put  out  me  clothes,  when  lo  !  she  begins  and 
screams  like  mad.  She's  had  no  education,  that's 
plain.  There's  nothing  the  matter  with  my  Lyddy 
except  that  she's  delicate,  and  as  soon  as  she's  a  lit 
tle  better  I'm  going  to  have  her  take  music  lessons 
on  the  peanner." 

Eve  looked  at  Mrs.  Halley's  ragged,  wet  dress,  and 
at  the  wan,  pinched  face  of  the  sleeping  girl.  "  It 
is  a  pity  you  have  to  leave  her,"  she  said.  "  Couldn't 
you  get  somebody  to  do  your  washing  ?" 

"I  take  in  wash  ing,  miss  ;  I'm  a  lady-laundress. 
Only  the  best;  I  never  wash  for  the  boats." 

"  How  much  do  you  earn  a  week  ?" 

"  Oh,  a  tidy  sum,"  answered  Mrs.  Ilalley.  Then, 
seeing  that  Eve  had  taken  out  her  purse,  her  misery 
overcame  her  pride,  and  she  burst  forth,  suddenly: 
"  Never  more  than  three  dollars,  miss,  with  me  slav 
ing  from  morning  to  night.  And  I've  five  children 
besides  poor  Lyddy  there." 

Eve  gave  her  a  five-dollar  bill. 

"  Ob,  may  the  Lord  bless  you  !"  she  began  to  cry. 
"  And  me  with  me  skirt  all  wet,  and  the  house  not 
clean,  when  the  chariot  of  the  Lord  descended  upon 
me!"  She  sank  into  a  chair,  her  toil-worn  hands  over 
her  face,  her  tired  back  bent  forward,  relaxed  at  last, 
and  resting. 

Eve  pursued  her  investigations  ;  she  sent  a  boy  to 
town  for  provisions,  and  waited  to  see  a  meal  pre- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  211 

pared.  Mrs.  Halley,  still  wet  and  ragged,  but  now 
refreshed  by  joy,  moved  about  rapidly;  at  last  there 
was  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  sit  down  and  wait. 
"  She  was  the  prettiest  of  all  my  children,"  she  re 
marked,  indicating  the  sleeping  girl  with  a  motion 
of  her  head. 

"  She  is  still  pretty,"  Eve  answered. 

"  Yet  you  never  saw  her  making  eyes  at  gentle 
men  like  some;  there's  a  great  deal  of  making  eyes 
at  Potterpins.  Rose  Bonham,  now — she  got  a  silk 
dress  out  of  Mr.  Tennant  no  longer  ago  as  last 
March." 

"  Mr.  Tennant  ?" 

"Yes;  the  gentleman  who  superintends  the  mine. 
Not  that  I  have  anything  to  say  against  him;  gen 
tlemen  has  their  priviluges.  All  I  say  is — girls 
hasn't !" 

Eve  had  risen.  "  I  must  go ;  I  will  come  again 
soon." 

"  Oh,  miss,"  said  the  woman,  dropping  her  gossip, 
and  returning  to  her  gratitude  (which  was  genuine) 
— "  oh,  miss,  mayn't  I  know  your  name  ?  I  want  to 
put  it  in  me  prayers.  There  was  just  three  cents  in 
the  house,  miss,  when  you  came  ;  and  Lyddy  she 
couldn't  eat  the  last  meal  I  got  for  her — a  cracker 
and  a  piece  of  mackerel." 

"  You  can  pray  for  me  without  a  name,"  said  Eve, 
going  out. 

She  felt  as  though  there  were  hot  coals  in  her 
throat,  she  could  scarcely  breathe.  She  went  towards 
the  forest,  and,  entering  it  by  a  cart-track,  walked 
rapidly  on.  Rose  Bonham  was  the  daughter  of  the 
butter-woman.  Bonham  had  a  forest  farm  about 
five  miles  from  Port  aux  Pins  on  the  road  to  Betsy 


212  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Lake,  and  his  wife  kept  Paul's  cottage  supplied  with 
butter.  Eve  had  seen  the  daughter  several  times  ; 
she  was  a  very  beautiful  girl.  Eve  and  Cieely 
thought  her  bold;  but  the  women  who  eat  the  but 
ter  are  apt  to  think  so  of  those  who  bring  it,  if  the 
bringers  have  sparkling  eyes,  peach-like  complexions, 
and  the  gait  of  Hebe. 

And  Paul  himself  had  suggested  the  spending  the 
night  there — an  entirely  unnecessary  thing — under 
the  pretence  of  gaining  thereby  an  earlier  start  in 
the  morning. 

She  came  to  a  little  pool  of  clear  water;  pausing 
beside  it,  half  unconsciously,  she  beheld  the  reflec 
tion  of  her  face  in  its  mirror,  and  something  seemed 
to  say  to  her,  "What  is  your  education,  your  culture, 
your  senseless  pride  worth,  when  compared  with  the 
peach-like  bloom  of  that  young  girl  ?"  Her  own 
image  looked  up  at  her,  pale,  cold,  and  stern;  it  did 
not  seem  to  her  to  have  a  trace  of  beauty.  She  took 
a  stone,  and,  casting  it  in  the  pool,  shattered  the  pict 
ure.  "  I  wish  I  were  beautiful  beyond  words  !  I 
could  be  beautiful  if  I  had  everything  ;  if  nothing 
but  the  finest  lace  ever  touched  me,  if  I  never  raised 
my  hand  to  do  anything  for  myself,  if  I  had  only 
dainty  and  delicate  and  beautiful  things  about  me, 
I  should  be  beautiful — I  know  I  should.  Bad  women 
have  those  things,  they  say  ;  why  haven't  they  the 
best  of  it  ?" 

She  began  to  walk  on  again.  She  had  not  given 
much  thought  to  the  direction  her  steps  were  taking; 
now  it  came  to  her  that  the  road  to  Lake  Betsy,  and 
therefore  to  Bonham's,  was  not  far  away,  and  she 
crossed  the  wood  towards  it.  When  she  reached  it, 
she  turned  towards  Bonham's.  Five  miles.  It  was 
now  after  five  o'clock. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  213 

When  she  came  in  sight  of  the  low  roof  and  scat 
tered  out-buildings  a  sudden  realization  of  what  she 
was  doing  came  to  her,  and  she  stopped.  Why  was 
she  there  ?  If  they  should  see  her,  any  of  them, 
what  would  they  think  ?  What  could  she  say  ?  As 
though  they  were  already  upon  her,  she  took  refuge 
hastily  behind  the  high  bushes  with  which  the  road 
was  bordered.  "Oh,  what  have  I  come  here  for? 
Humiliating  !  Let  me  get  back  home  ! — let  me  get 
back  home!"  She  returned  towards  Port  aux  Pins 
by  the  fields,  avoiding  the  road;  the  shadows  were 
dense  now;  it  was  almost  night. 

She  had  gone  more  than  a  mile  when  she  stopped. 
An  irresistible  force  impelled  her,  and  she  retraced 
her  steps.  When  she  reached  Bonham's  the  second 
time,  lights  were  shining  from  the  windows.  The 
roughly-built  house  rose  directly  from  the  road. 
Blinds  and  curtains  were  evidently  considered  su 
perfluous.  With  breathless  eagerness  she  drew 
near;  the  evening  was  cool,  and  the  windows  were 
closed;  through  the  small  wrinkled  panes  she  could 
distinguish  a  wrinkled  Cicely,  a  wrinkled  judge,  a 
Ilollis  much  askew,  and  a  Paul  Tennant  writh  a  dis 
located  jaw;  they  were  playing  a  game.  After  some 
moments  she  recognized  that  it  was  whist;  she  al 
most  laughed  aloud,  a  bitter  laugh  at  herself;  she 
had  walked  five  miles  to  see  a  game  of  whist. 

A  dog  barked,  she  turned  away  and  began  her 
long  journey  homeward. 

But  the  thought  came  to  her,  and  would  not  leave 
her.  "After  the  game  is  over,  and  the  others  have 
gone  to  bed,  he  will  see  that  girl  somehow  !" 

She  did  not  find  the  road  a  long  one.  Passion 
made  it  short,  a  passion  of  jealous  despair. 


214  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Reaching  the  town  at  hist,  she  passed  an  ephemeral 
ice-cream  saloon  with  a  large  window;  seated  with 
in,  accompanied  by  a  Port  aux  Pins  youth  of  the 
hobbledehoy  species,  was  Rose  Bonham,  eating  ice 
cream. 

The  next  evening  at  six  the  excursion  party  re 
turned.  At  seven  they  were  seated  at  the  tea-table. 
The  little  door-bell  jangled  loudly  in  the  near  hall, 
there  was  a  sound  of  voices;  Paul,  who  was  nearest 
the  door,  rose  and  went  to  see  what  it  was. 

After  a  long  delay  he  came  back  and  looked  in. 
They  had  all  left  the  table,  and  Cicely  had  gone  to 
her  room;  Paul  beckoned  Eve  out  silently.  His 
face  had  a  look  that  made  her  heart  stop  beating; 
in  the  narrow  hall,  under  the  small  lamp,  he  gave  her, 
one  by  one,  three  telegraphic  despatches,  open. 

The  first:  "Monday. 

"Break  it  to  Cicely.     Dear  Ferdie  died  at  dawn. 

"  SABRINA  ABERCROMRIE." 

The  second:  "Monday. 

"Morrison  died  this  morning.     Telegraph  your  wishes. 

"EDWARD  Kxox,  M.D." 

The  third:  "  Wednesday. 

"Morrison  buried  this  afternoon.  Address  me,  Charles 
ton  Hotel,  Charleston.  "EDWARD  KNOX,  M.D." 

"I  ought  to  have  had  them  two  days  ago,"  said 
Paul.  He  stood  with  his  lips  slightly  apart  looking 
at  her,  but  without  seeing  her  or  seeing  anything. 


JUPITER    LIGUTS.  215 


XXII. 

"Up  the  airy  mountain, 

Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  daren't  go  a-hunting, 

For  fear  of  little  men  : 
Wee  folk,  good  folk, 

Trooping  all  together  ; 
Green  jacket,  red  cap, 

And  white  owl's  feather  !" 

So,  in  a  sweet  little  thread  of  a  voice,  sang  Cicely; 
her  tones,  though  clear,  were  so  faint  that  they 
seemed  to  come  from  far  away.  She  was  sitting  in 
an  easy-chair,  with  pillows  behind  her,  her  hands  laid 
on  the  arms  of  the  chair,  her  feet  on  a  footstool.  Her 
eyes  wandered  over  the  opposite  wall,  and  presently 
she  began  again,  beating  time  with  her  hand  on  the 
arm  of  the  chair  : 

"Down  along  the  rocky  shore 

Some  make  their  home ; 
They  live  on  crispy  pancakes 

Of  yellow  tide  foam  ; 
Some  in  the  reeds 

Of  the  black  mountain  lake, 
With  frogs  for  their  \vatch-dogs, 

All  night  awake — awake." 

She  laughed. 

The  judge  left  the  room.  He  walked  on  tiptoe; 
but  he  might  have  worn  hobnailed  shoes,  and  made  all 
the  noise  possible — Cicely  would  not  have  noticed 
it.  "I  can't  stand  it  !"  he  said  to  Paul,  outside. 

"  How  it  must  feel — to  be  as  stiff  and  old  as  that !" 


216  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

was  the  thought  that  passed  through  the  younger 
man's  mind.  For  the  judge's  features  were  no  long 
er  able  to  express  the  sorrows  that  lay  beneath; 
even  while  speaking  his  despair  his  face  remained 
immovable,  like  a  mask. 

"But  it's  merciful,  after  all,"  Paul  had  answered, 
aloud. 

"Merciful?" 

"  Yes.     Come  to  my  room  and  I'll  tell  you  why." 

Straw  was  laid  down  before  Paul's  cottage.  With 
in,  all  was  absolutely  quiet;  even  little  Jack  had  been 
sent  away.  He  had  been  sent  to  Hollis,  who  was 
taking  care  of  him  so  elaborately,  with  so  many  in 
genious  devices  for  his  entertainment,  that  Porley 
was  wildly  idle;  there  was  nothing  for  her  to  do. 

Standing  beside  the  white-pine  table  in  Paul's 
bare  bedroom,  the  two  men  held  their  conference. 
Paul's  explanation  lasted  three  minutes.  "Ferdie 
was  entangled  with  her  long  before  he  ever  saw 
Cicely,"  he  concluded,  "and  he  always  liked  her; 
that  was  her  hold  upon  him — he  liked  her,  and  she 
knew  it;  he  didn't  drop  her  even  after  he  was  mar 
ried." 

From  the  rigid  old  face  there  came  a  hot  impre 
cation. 

"  Let  him  alone — will  you  ? — now  he's  dead,"  sug 
gested  Paul,  curtly.  "  I  don't  suppose  that  you  your 
self  have  been  so  immaculate  all  your  life  that  you 
can  afford  to  set  up  as  a  pattern  ?" 

"  But  my  wife,  sir —     Nothing  ever  touched  her" 

"You  mean  that  you  arranged  things  so  that  she 
shouldn't  know.  All  decent  men  do  that,  I  suppose, 
and  Ferdie  didn't  in  the  least  intend  that  Cicely 
should  know,  either.  He  told  her  to  stay  here;  if 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  217 

she  bad  persisted  in  going  down  there  against  his 
wish,  and  against  his  arrangements  also,  fancy  what 
she  would  have  put  her  head  into  !  I  couldn't  let 
her  do  that,  of  course.  But  though  I  told  her  enough 
to  give  her  some  clew,  she  hadn't  the  least  suspicion 
of  the  whole  truth,  and  now  she  need  never  know." 

"  She  won't  have  time,  she's  dying,"  answered  the 
grandfather. 

Cicely's  state  was  alarming.  A  violent  attack  of 
brain-fever  had  been  followed  by  the  present  con 
dition  of  comparative  quiet;  she  recognized  no  one; 
much  of  the  time  she  sang  to  herself  gayly.  The 
doctor  feared  that  the  paroxysms  would  return. 
They  had  been  terrible  to  witness ;  Paul  had  held 
her,  and  he  had  exerted  all  the  force  of  his  strong 
arms  to  keep  her  from  injuring  herself,  her  fragile 
little  form  had  thrown  itself  about  so  wildly,  like 
a  bird  beating  its  life  out  against  the  bars  of  its 
cage. 

No  one  in  this  desolate  cottage  had  time  to  think 
of  the  accumulation  of  troubles  that  had  come  upon 
them  :  the  silence,  broken  only  by  Cicely's  strange 
singing,  the  grief  of  Paul  for  his  brother,  the  dumb 

O          O  f  ~ 

despair  of  the  old  man,  the  absence  of  little  Jack, 
the  near  presence  of  Death.  But  of  the  four  faces, 
that  of  Eve  expressed  the  deepest  hopelessness.  She 
stayed  constantly  in  the  room  where  Cicely  was,  but 
she  did  nothing;  from  the  first  she  had  not  offered 
to  help  in  any  way,  and  the  doctor,  seeing  that  she 
was  to  be  of  no  use,  had  sent  a  nurse.  On  the  fourth 
day,  Paul  said  :  "You  must  have  some  sleep,  Eve. 
Go  to  your  room;  I  will  have  you  called  if  she  grows 
worse." 

"No;  I  must  stay  here." 


218  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  Why  ?     There  is  nothing  for  you  to  do." 
"You  mean  that  I  do  nothing.     I  know  it;  but 
I  must  stay." 

On  the  seventh  evening  he  spoke  again;  Cicely's 
quiet  state  had  now  lasted  twenty-four  hours.  "  Ly 
ing  on  a  lounge  is  no  good,  Eve;  to-night  you  must 
go  to  bed.  Otherwise  we  shall  have  YOU  breaking 

O  •/  ~ 

down  too." 

"Do  I  look  as  though  I  should  break  down  ?" 
They  had  happened  to  meet  in  the  hall  outside  of 
Cicely's  door;  the  sunset   light,  coming  through  a 
small  window,  flooded  the  place  Avith  gold. 

"  If  YOU  put  it  in  that  way,  I  must  say  you  do 
not." 

"  I  knew  it.     I  am  very  strong." 
"  You  speak  as  though  you  regretted  it." 
"I  do  regret  it."     She  put  out  her  hand  to  open 
the  door. — "Don't  think  that  I  am  trying  to  be  sen 
sational,"  she  pleaded. 

"  All  I  think  is  that  you  are  an  obstinate  girl;  and 
one  very  much  in  need  of  rest,  too." 

Her  eyes  filled,  he  had  spoken  as  one  speaks  to  a 
tired  child;  but  she  turned  her  head  so  that  he  should 
not  see  her  face,  and  left  him,  entering  Cicely's  room, 
and  closing  the  door  behind  her  ;  her  manner  and 
the  movement,  as  he  saw  them,  were  distinctly  re 
pellent. 

Cicely  did  not  notice  her  entrance;  the  nurse,  who 
had  some  knitting  in  her  hand  in  order  not  to  appear 
too  watchful,  but  who  in  reality  saw  the  rise  and  fall 
of  her  patient's  every  breath,  was  near.  Eve  went 
to  the  place  where  she  often  sat — a  chair  partially 
screened  by  the  projection  of  a  large  wardrobe;  she 
could  see  only  a  towel-stand  opposite,  and  the  in- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  219 

grain  carpet,  in  ugly  octagons  of  red  and  green,  at 
her  feet.  The  silence  was  profound. 

"  I  am  a  murderer,  it  is  a  murderer  who  is  sitting 
here.  If  people  only  knew  !  But  it  is  enough  for 
me  to  know. 

— "They  said  he  was  getting  hotter.  Instead  of 
that  he  is  dead, — he  is  dead,  and  I  shot  him;  I  lifted 
the  pistol  and  fired.  At  the  time  it  didn't  seem 
wrong.  But  this  is  what  it  means  to  kill,  I  suppose; 
— this  awful  agony. 

— -"I  have  never  been  one  of  the  afraid  kind.  I 
wisli  now  that  I  had  been;  then  this  wouldn't  have 
happened;  the  baby  might  have  been  horribly  hurt, 
Cicely  too;  but  at  least  I  shouldn't  have  been  a  mur 
derer.  For  if  you  kill  you  are  a  murderer,  no  mat 
ter  whether  the  person  you  kill  is  good  or  bad,  or 
what  you  do  it  for;  you  have  killed  some  one,  you 
have  made  his  life  come  to  a  sudden  stop,  and  for 
that  you  must  take  the  responsibility. 

— "  Oh,  God  !  it  is  too  dreadful !  I  cannot  bear  it. 
Sometimes,  when  I  have  been  unhappy,  I  have  waked 
and  found  it  was  only  a  dream;  couldn't  this  be  a 
dream  ? 

— "  I  was  really  going  to  tell,  I  was  going  to  tell 
Cicely.  But  I  thought  I  would  wait  until  he  was 
well — as  every  one  said  he  would  be  soon — so  that 
she  wouldn't  hate  me  quite  so  much.  If  she  should 
die  without  coming  to  her  senses,  I  shouldn't  be  able 
to  tell  her. 

— "  Hypocrite  !  even  to  myself.  In  reality  I  don't 
want  her  to  come  to  her  senses;  I  have  sat  here  for 
days,  afraid  to  leave  her,  watching  every  moment 
lest  she  should  begin  to  talk  rationally.  For  then  I 
should  have  to  tell  her;  and  she  would  tell  Paul. 
Oh,  I  cannot  have  him  know — I  cannot." 


220  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

Made  stupid  by  her  misery,  she  sat  gazing  at  the 
floor,  her  eyes  fixed,  her  lips  slightly  apart. 

She  was  exhausted  ;  for  the  same  thoughts  had 
besieged  her  ever  since  she  had  read  the  despatch, 
"  Morrison  died  this  morning," — an  unending  repeti 
tion  of  exactly  the  same  sentences,  constantly  fol 
lowing  each  other,  and  constantly  beginning  again; 
even  in  sleep  they  continued,  like  a  long  nightmare, 
so  that  she  woke  weeping.  And  now  without  a  mo 
ment's  respite,  while  she  sat  there  with  her  eyes  on 
the  carpet,  the  involuntary  recital  began  anew:  "I 
am  a  murderer,  it  is  a  murderer  who  is  sitting  here. 
If  people  only  knew  !" 

"  They  may  rail  at  this  life;  from  the  hour  I  began  it 

I've  found  it  a  life  full  of  kindness  and  bliss; 
And  until  you  can  show  me  some  happier  planet, 
More  social,  more  gay,  I'll  content  me  with  this," 

chanted  Cicely,  sweetly. 

"  The  song  of  last  Christmas  at  Romney,"  Eve's 
thoughts  went  on.  "  Oh,  how  changed  I  am  since 
then — how  changed  !  That  night  I  thought  only  of 
my  brother.  Now  I  have  almost  forgotten  him; — 
Jack,  do  you  care?  All  I  think  of  is  Paul,  Paul, 
Paul.  How  beautiful  it  was  in  that  gray-green 
wood!  But  what  am  I  dreaming  about  ?  How  can 
the  person  who  killed  his  brother  be  anything  to 
him? 

— "  Once  he  said — he  told  me  himself — '  I  care  for 
Ferdie  more  than  for  anything  in  the  world.'  It's 
Ferdie  I  have  killed. 

— "  '  Morrison  buried  this  afternoon.  Address  me 
Charleston  Hotel,  Charleston.'  lie  put  those  de 
spatches  in  his  pocket  and  went  into  the  back  room. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  221 

He  sat  down  by  the  table,  and  laid  his  head  upon 
his  arms.  His  shoulders  shook,  I  know  he  was  cry 
ing,  he  was  crying  for  his  brother.  Oh,  I  will  go 
down-stairs  and  tell  him  the  whole;  I  will  go  this 
moment."  She  rose. 

On  the  stairs  she  met  the  judge.  "  Is  she  worse  ?" 
he  asked,  alarmed  at  seeing  her  outside  of  the  room. 

"  No;  the  same." 

She  found  Paul  in  the  lower  hall.  "  Is  she  worse  ?" 
he  said. 

'•'  No.     How  constantly  you  think  of  her  !" 

"Of  course." 

"  Can  I  speak  to  you  for  a  moment  ?"  She  led  the 
way  to  the  small  back  room  where  he  had  sat  with 
his  head  on  his  arms.  "I  want  to  tell  you — "  she 
began.  Then  she  stopped. 

His  face  had  a  worn  look,  his  eyes  were  dull — a 
dullness  caused  by  sorrow  and  the  pressure  of  care. 
But  to  her,  as  he  stood  there,  he  was  supreme,  her 
whole  heart  went  out  to  him.  "  How  I  love  him  !" 
The  feeling  swept  over  her  like  a  flood,  overwhelm 
ing  everything  else. 

"  What  is  it  you  wish  to  tell  me  ?"  Paul  asked, 
seeing  that  she  still  remained  silent. 

"  How  can  I  do  it ! — how  can  I  do  it !"  she  said  to 
herself. 

"  Don't  tell  me,  then,  if  it  troubles  you,"  he  add 
ed,  his  voice  taking  the  kindly  tones  she  dreaded. 

Her  courage  vanished.  "Another  time,"  she  said 
hurriedly,  and,  turning,  she  left  the  room. 

But  as  she  went  up  the  stairs  she  knew  that  there 
would  be  no  other  time.  "  Never  !  never  !  I  shall 
never  tell  him.  What  do  I  care  for  truthfulness,  or 
courage,  compared  with  one  word  of  his  spoken  in 
that  tone  !" 


222  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 


XXIII. 

Miss  SABRINA'S  first  letters  had  been  so  full  of 
grief  that  they  had  been  vague  ;  to  her  there  had 
been  but  the  one  fact  :  Ferdie  was  dead. 

She  had  become  much  attached  to  him.  There 
was  nothing  strange  in  this;  both  as  boy  and  as  man, 
Ferdinand  Morrison  had  been  deeply  loved  by  manv. 
The  poor  woman  knew  his  fault  (she  thought  it  his 
only  one),  for  the  judge  had  written  an  account  of 
all  that  had  happened,  and  the  reasons  for  Cicely's 
flight.  Nevertheless  she  loved  this  prodigal  as  the 
prodigal  is  often  so  dearly  loved  by  the  woman 
whose  heart  is  pierced  the  most  deeply  by  his  ex 
cesses — his  mother.  And  Miss  Sabrina,  as  regarded 
her  devotion,  might  indeed  have  been  Ferdie's  moth 
er  ;  something  in  him  roused  the  dormant  maternal 
feeling — the  maternal  passion — which  existed  in  her 
heart  unknown  to  herself.  She  did  not  comprehend 
what  it  was  that  was  disturbing  her  so  much,  and 
yet  at  the  same  time  making  her  so  happy — she  did 
not  comprehend  that  it  was  stifled  nature  asserting 
itself  at  this  late  day;  the  circumstances  of  her  life 
had  made  her  a  gentle,  conciliatory  old  maid;  she 
was  not  in  the  least  aware  that  as  a  mother  she 
could  have  been  a  tigress  in  the  defence  of  her  sons. 
For  she  was  a  woman  who  would  have  rejoiced  in 
her  sons;  daughters  would  never  have  been  impor 
tant  to  her. 

She  thought  that  she  was  perfectly  reasonable 
about  Ferdie.  No,  Cicely  must  not  come  back  to 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  223 

him  for  the  present;  baby  too — darling  little  boy  ! — 
lie  must  be  kept  away;  and  oh  !  how  terrible  that 
flight  through  the  woods,  and  the  escape  in  the  boat; 
she  thought  of  it  every  night  with  tremors.  Yet,  in 
spite  of  all,  she  loved  the  man  who  had  caused  these 
griefs.  His  illness  made  him  dependent  upon  her, 
and  his  voice  calling  her  name  in  peremptory  tones, 
like  those  of  a  spoiled  child — this  was  the  sweetest 
sound  her  ears  had  ever  heard.  He  would  reform, 
all  her  hopes  and  plans  were  based  upon  that;  she 
went  about  with  prayer  on  her  lips  from  morning 
till  night — prayer  for  him. 

When  his  last  breath  had  been  drawn,  it  seemed 
to  her  as  if  the  daily  life  of  the  world  must  have 
stopped  too,  outside  of  the  darkened  chamber;  as  if 
people  could  not  go  on  eating  and  drinking,  and  the 
sun  go  on  shining,  with  Ferdie  dead.  She  was  able 

O  O ' 

to  keep  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  household  until 
after  the  funeral;  then  she  became  the  prey  of  an 
illness  which,  though  quiet  and  iinobtrusive,  like 
everything  else  connected  with  her,  was  yet  suffi 
ciently  persistent  to  confine  her  to  her  bed.  Nanny 
Singleton,  who  had  come  to  Romney  every  day,  rowed 
by  Boliver,  now  came  again,  this  time  to  stay;  she 
took  possession  of  the  melancholy  house,  re-estab 
lished  order  after  her  inexact  fashion,  and  then  de 
voted  herself  to  nursing  her  friend. 

Two  of  Nanny  Singleton's  letters. 

Letter  number  one  : 

"  ROMNEY,  Friday  evening. 

"  DEAR  JUDGE, — I  feel  that  we  have  been  very  remiss  in 
not  sending  to  you  sooner  the  details  of  this  heart-breaking 
event.  But  we  have  been  so  afflicted  ourselves  with  the  un 
expectedness  of  it  all,  with  the  funeral,  and  with  dear  Sabri- 
na's  illness,  that  we  have  been  somewhat  negligent.  We  feel, 


224  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Rupert  and  I,  that  we  have  lost  not  only  one  who  was  person 
ally  dear  to  us,  but  also  the  most  fascinating,  the  most  brill 
iant,  the  most  thoroughly  engaging  young  man  whom  it  has 
ever  been  our  good-fortune  to  meet.  Such  a  death  is  a  pub 
lic  calamity,  and  you,  his  nearest  and  dearest,  must  admit  us 
(as  well  as  many,  many  others)  to  that  circle  of  mourning 
friends  who  esteemed  him  highly,  admired  him  inexpressibly, 
and  loved  him  sincerely  for  the  unusually  charming  qualities 
he  possessed. 

"Our  dearest  Sabrina  told  us  all  the  particulars  the  morn 
ing  after  his  death,  for  of  course  we  came  directly  to  her  as 
soon  as  we  heard  what  had  happened.  He  had  been  making, 
as  you  probably  know,  a  visit  in  Savannah;  Dr.  Knox  had 
accompanied  him,  or  perhaps  it  was  that  he  joined  him  there ; 
at  any  rate,  it  was  Dr.  Knox  who  brought  him  home.  It 
seems  that  he  had  overestimated  his  strength — so  natural  in 
a  young  man  ! — and  he  arrived  much  exhausted;  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  the  doctor  thought  it  better  that  dear  Sabrina 
should  not  see  him  that  evening.  And  the  next  day  she  only 
saw  him  once,  and  from  across  the  room;  he  was  alarmingly 
pale,  and  did  not  open  his  eyes;  Dr.  Knox  said  that  he  must 
not  try  to  speak.  It  was  the  next  morning  at  dawn  that  the 
doctor  came  to  her  door  and  told  Powlyne  to  waken  her. 
(But  she  was  not  asleep.)  '  He  is  going,  if  you  wish  to  come;' 
this  was  all  he  said.  Dear  Sabrina,  greatly  agitated,  threw 
on  her  wrapper  over  her  night-dress,  and  hastened  to  the  bed 
side  of  the  dear  boy.  He  lay  in  a  stupor,  he  did  not  know 
her;  and  in  less  than  half  an  hour  his  breath  ceased.  She 
prayed  for  him  during  the  interval,  she  knelt  down  and  prayed 
aloud;  it  was  a  wonder  that  she  had  the  strength  to  do  it 
when  a  soul  so  dear  to  her  was  passing.  When  it  had  taken 
flight,  she  closed  his  eyes,  and  made  all  orderly  about  him. 
And  she  kissed  him  for  Cicely,  she  told  me. 

"The  funeral  she  arranged  herself  in  every  detail.  Re 
ceiving  no  replies  to  her  despatches  to  you,  she  was  obliged 
to  use  her  own  judgment;  she  had  confessed  to  me  in  the  be 
ginning  that  she  much  wished  to  have  him  buried  here  at 
Romney,  in  the  little  circle  of  her  loved  ones,  and  not  hearing 
from  you  to  the  contrary,  she  decided  to  do  this;  he  lies  be 
side  your  brother  Marmaduke.  Our  friends  came  from  all 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  225 

the  islands  near  and  far;  there  must  have  been  sixty  persons 
in  all,  many  bringing  flowers.  Dr.  Knox  stayed  with  us  un 
til  after  the  funeral — that  is,  until  day  before  yesterday;  then 
he  took  his  leave  of  us,  aud  went  to  Charleston  by  the  even 
ing  boat.  He  seems  a  most  excellent  young  man.  And  if  he 
strikes  us  as  a  little  cold,  no  doubt  it  is  simply  that,  being  a 
Northerner,  and  not  a  man  of  much  cultivation,  he  could  not 
appreciate  fully  Ferdie's  very  remarkable  qualities.  Dear  old 
Dr.  Daniels,  who  has  been  in  Virginia  for  several  weeks,  has 
now  returned ;  he  comes  over  every  day  to  see  Sabrina.  He 
tells  me  that  her  malady  is  intermittent  fever— a  mild  form; 
the  only  point  is  to  keep  her  strength  up,  and  this  we  en 
deavor  to  do  with  chickens.  I  will  remain  here  as  long  as  I 
can  be  of  the  slightest  service,  aud  you  rnay  rest  assured  that 
everything  possible  is  being  done. 

"  I  trust  darling  Cicely  is  not  burdened  by  the  many  letters 
we  have  written  to  her — my  own  four,  and  Rupert's  three, 
as  well  as  those  of  her  other  friends  on  the  islands  about  here. 
All  wished  to  write,  and  we  did  not  know  how  to  say  no. 

"  With  love  to  Miss  Bruce,  I  am,  dear  judge,  your  attached 
and  sorrowing  friend,  NA^NY  SINGLETON." 

Letter  number  two  : 

"RoMNEY,  Saturday  Morning. 

"MY  DEAK  MR.  TENNANT, — My  husband  has  just  received 
your  letter,  and  as  he  is  much  crippled  by  his  rheumatism  this 
morning,  he  desires  me  to  answer  it  immediately,  so  that  there 
may  be  no  delay. 

"  We  both  supposed  that  Dr.  Knox  had  written  to  you. 
Probably  while  he  was  here  there  were  so  many  things  to 
take  up  his  time  that  he  could  not ;  and  I  happen  to  know 
that  as  soon  as  he  reached  Charleston,  day  before  yesterday, 
lie  was  met  by  this  unexpected  proposition  to  join  a  private 
yacht  for  a  cruise  of  several  months  ;  one  of  the  conditions 
was  that  he  was  to  go  on  board  immediately  (they  sailed  the 
same  evening),  and  I  dare  say  he  had  time  for  nothing  but 
his  own  preparations,  and  that  you  will  hear  from  him  later. 
My  husband  says,  however,  that  he  can  give  you  all  the  de 
tails  of  the  case,  which  was  a  simple  one.  Your  brother  over 
estimated  his  strength,  he  should  not  have  attempted  that 
15 


226  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

journey  to  Savannah  ;  it  was  too  soon,  for  his  wound  had 
not  liealed,  and  the  fatigue  brought  on  a  dangerous  relapse, 
from  which  he  could  not  rally.  He  died  from  the  effects  of 
i hat  cruel  shot,  Mr.  Tennant  ;  his  valuable  life  has  fallen  :>. 
sacrifice  (in  my  husband's  opinion)  to  the  present  miserable 
condition  of  our  poor  State,  Avhere  the  blacks,  our  servants, 
who  are  like  little  children  and  need  to  be  led  as  such, — where 
these  poor  ignorant  creatures  are  put  over  us,  their  former 
masters  ;  are  rewarded  with  office  ;  are  intrusted  with  dan 
gerous  weapons — a  liberty  which  in  this  case  has  proved  fatal 
to  one  of  the  higher  race.  It  seems  to  my  husband  as  if  the 
death  of  Ferdinand  Morrison  should  be  held  up  as  a  marked 
warning  to  the  entire  North  ;  this  very  superior,  talented,  and 
engaging  young  man  has  fallen  by  the  bullet  of  a  negro,  and 
my  husband  says  that  in  his  opinion  the  tale  should  be  told 
everywhere,  on  the  steps  of  court-houses  and  in  churches,  and 
the  question  should  be  solemnly  asked,  Shall  such  things  con 
tinue  ?— shall  the  servant  rule  his  lord  ? 

"  We  are  much  alarmed  by  the  few  words  in  Judge  Aber- 
crombie's  letter  (received  this  morning)  concerning  our  darling 
Cicely,  and  we  beg  you  to  send  us  a  line  daily.  Or  perhaps 
Miss  Bruce  would  do  it,  knowing  our  anxiety  ?  I  pray  that 
the  dear  child,  whom  we  all  so  fondly  love,  may  be  better  very 
soon  ;  but  I  will  be  anxious  until  I  hear. 

"As  I  sent  a  long  letter  to  the  judge  last  evening,  I  will 
not  add  more  to  this.  Our  sympathy,  dear  Mr.  Tennant, 
with  your  irreparable  loss  is  heartfelt  ;  you  do  not  need  our 
assurances  of  that,  I  know. 

"Mr.  Singleton  desires  me  to  present  his  respects.  And  J 
beg  to  remain  your  obedient  servant,  N.  SINGLETON." 


XXIV. 

MIDSUMMER  at  Port  aux  Pins.  The  day  was  very 
hot;  there  was  no  feeling  of  dampness,  such  as  be 
longs  sometimes  to  the  lower-lake  towns  in  the  dog- 
days,  up  here  the  air  remained  dry  and  clear  and 
pure;  but  the  splendid  sunshine  had  almost  the  tern- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  227 

perature  of  flame;  it  seemed  as  if  the  miles  of  forest 
must  take  fire,  as  from  a  burning-glass. 

Eve  stood  at  the  open  window  of  Paul's  little  par 
lor.  A  figure  passed  in  the  road  outside,  but  she 
did  not  notice  it.  Reappearing,  it  opened  the  gate 
and  came  in.  "Many  happy  returns  —  of  cooler 
weather!  We  ought  to  pity  the  Eyetalians;  what 
must  their  sufferings  be  on  such  a  day  as  this  !" 

Eve  gazed  at  the  speaker  unseeingly.  Then  recog 
nition  arrived;— "Oh,  Mr.  Hollis."  ' 

Ilollis  came  into  the  house  ;  he  joined  her  in  the 
parlor.  "  My  best  respects.  Can't  help  thinking  of 
the  miserable  Eyetalians."  Eve  made  no  reply. 
"  Just  heard  a  piece  of  news,"  Ilollis  went  on. 
"  Paul  has  sold  his  Clay  County  iron.  lie  would 
have  made  five  times  as  much  by  holding  on.  But 
he  has  been  so  jammed  lately  by  unexpected  de 
mands  made  upon  him  that  he  had  no  other  course; 
all  his  brother's  South  American  speculations  have 
come  to  grief,  and  the  creditors  have  come  down  on 
him  like  a  thousand  of  brick  !" 

"  AVill  he  have  to  pay  much  ?"  asked  Eve,  her  las 
situde  gone. 

"More  than  he's  got,"  answered  Ilollis,  putting 
his  hands  still  more  deeply  into  his  trousers  pockets, 
his  long,  lean,  fish-like  figure  projecting  itself  for 
ward  into  space  from  the  sixth  rib.  "  I  don't  get 
this  from  Paul,  you  may  depend;  he  don't  blab.  But 
the  law  sharks  who  came  up  here  to  get  hold  of  what 
ever  they  could  (for  you  see  Paul  has  always  been  a 
partner  in  his  brother's  enterprises,  so  that  gives  'em 
a  chance),  these  scamps  talked  to  me  some.  So  I 
know.  But  even  the  sale  of  his  Clay  County  iron 
won't  clear  Paul — he  will  have  to  crtiarantee  other 


JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

debts;  it  will  take  him  years  to  clear  it  all  off,  unless 
he  has  something  better  than  his  present  salary  to 
do  it  with." 

"  You  ought  to  have  told  me.     I  have  money." 

"I  guess  he  wouldn't  take  it.  He's  had  pretty 
hard  lines  all  round;  he  wanted  terribly  bad  to  go 
straight  to  Ferdie,  as  soon  as  he  heard  he  was  shot. 
But  Mrs.  Morrison — she  had  come  here,  you  know; 
and  he  had  all  Ferdie's  expenses  to  think  of  too,  so 
that  kept  him  grinding  along.  But  he  wanted  aw 
fully  to  go;  he  thought  the  world  and  all  of  Ferdie." 

"  I  know  he  did,"  said  Eve.  And  now  her  face 
was  like  a  tragic  mask — deadly  white,  with  a  frown, 
the  eyes  under  her  straight  brows  looking  at  him 
fixedly. 

"Oh,  eheu!"  thought  Hollis  distressfully,  disgust 
edly.  "You  screw  yourself  up  to  tell  her  all  these 
things  about  him,  because  you  think  it  will  please 
her;  and  this  is  the  way  she  takes  'em  !" 

He  looked  at  her  again;  she  gave  no  sign.  Feel 
ing  painfully  insignificant  and  helpless,  he  turned 
and  left  the  room. 

A  few  minutes  later  Paul  came  in.  "  You  have 
sold  your  Clay  County  iron !"  said  Eve. 

"  I  have  always  intended  to  sell  it." 

"  Not  at  a  sacrifice." 

"  One  does  as  one  can — a  business  transaction." 

"  How  much  money  have  you  sent  to  your  brother 
all  these  years?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  it  is —  I  don't  know  what 
interest  you  can  have  in  it,"  Paul  answered. 

"  You  mean  that  it  is  not  my  business.  Oh,  don't 
be  so  hard  !  Say  three  words  just  for  once." 

"Why,  I'll  say  as  many  as  you  like,  Eve.     Ferdie 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  229 

was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  fellows  in  the  world; 
if  he  had  lived,  all  his  investments  would  have  turned 
out  finely,  he  was  sure  of  a  fortune  some  time." 

"  And,  in  the  meanwhile,  you  supported  him  ;  you 
have  always  done  it." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  I  advanced  him  money  now 
and  then  when  he  happened  to  be  short,  but  it  was 
always  for  the  time  being  only;  he  would  have  paid 
me  back  if  he  had  lived." 

The  door  opened,  and  the  judge  came  in.  "  I'm 
glad  you're  here,"  said  Paul;  "now  we  can  decide, 
we  three,  upon  what  is  best  to  be  done.  The  doctor 
says  that  while  this  heat  is  very  bad  for  Cicely,  travel 
would  be  still  worse  ;  she  cannot  go  anywhere  by 
train,  and  hardly  by  steamer — though  that  is  better; 
there  would  be  no  use,  then,  in  trying  to  take  her 
south." 

"  It's  ten  times  hotter  here  to-day  than  I  ever  saw 
it  at  Romney,"  interposed  the  judge.  "  It's  a  tophet 
— this  town  of  yours  !" 

"  I  was  thinking  also  of  Miss  Abercrornbie's  ill 
ness,"  Paul  went  on.  "  Though  her  fever  is  light, 
her  room  is  still  a  sick-room,  and  that  would  depress 
Cicely,  I  feel  sure.  But,  meanwhile,  the  poor  girl  is 
hourly  growing  weaker,  and  so  this  is  what  I  have 
thought  of  :  we  will  go  into  camp  in  the  pinies  near 
Jupiter  Light.  Don't  you  remember  how  much  good 
camp-life  did  her  before?" 

Six  days  later  they  were  living  in  the  pine  woods 
at  Jupiter.  This  time  lodges  had  been  built ;  the 
nurse  accompanied  Cicely  ;  they  were  a  party  of 
eight,  without  counting  the  cook  and  the  Indians. 

At  first  Cicely  remained  in  much  the  same  state, 
she  recognized  no  one  but  Jack. 


230  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Jack  continued  to  be  his  mother's  most  constant 
adorer ;  he  climbed  often  into  her  lap,  and,  putting 
his  arms  round  her  neck,  "  loved  "  her  with  his  cheek 
against  hers,  and  with  all  his  little  heart ;  he  came 
trotting  up  many  times  a  day,  to  stroke  her  face 
with  his  dimpled  hand.  Cicely  looked  at  him,  but 
did  not  answer.  After  ten  days  in  the  beneficent 
forest,  however,  her  strength  began  to  revive,  and 
their  immediate  fears  were  calmed.  One  evening 
she  asked  for  her  grandfather,  and  when  he  came 
hastily  in  and  bent  over  her  couch,  she  smiled  and 
kissed  him.  He  sat  down  beside  her,  holding  her 
hand  ;  after  a  while  she  fell  into  a  sleep.  The  old 
man  went  softhT  out,  he  went  to  the  camp-fire,  and 
made  it  blaze,  throwing  on  fresh  pine-cones  reck 
lessly. 

"  Sixty-five  in  the  shade,"  remarked  Ilollis. 

"  This  Northern  air  is  always  abominable.  Will 
you  make  me  a  taste  of  something  spicy?  I  feel  the 
need  of  it.  Miss  Bruce, — Eve — Cicely  knows  me  !" 

Eve  looked  at  his  brightened  face,  at  the  blazing 
fire,  the  rough  table  with  the  tumblers,  the  flask,  and 
the  lemons.  Ilollis  had  gone  to  the  kitchen  to  get 
hot  water. 

"  She  knows  me,"  repeated  the  judge,  triumphant 
ly.  "  She  sent  for  me  herself." 

Paul  now  appeared,  and  the  good  news  was  again 
told.  Paul  had  just  come  from  Port  aux  Pins.  After 
establishing  them  at  Jupiter,  he  had  been  obliged  to 
return  to  town  immediately,  and  he  had  remained 
there  closely  occupied  for  more  than  a  week.  He 
sat  down,  refusing  Hollis's  proffered  glass.  The 
nurse  came  out,  and  walked  to  and  fro  before  Cicely's 
lodge,  breathing  the  aromatic  air;  this  meant  that 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  231 

Cicely  still  slept.  Eve  had  seated  herself  a  little 
apart  from  the  fire;  her  figure  was  in  the  shadow. 
Her  mind  was  filled  with  but  one  thought:  "Cicely 
better?  Then  must  I  tell  her?"  By-and-by  the 
conversation  of  the  others  came  to  her. 

"  Hanging  is  too  good  for  them,"  said  the  judge. 

"But  wasn't  it  supposed  to  be  a  chance  shot?" 
remarked  Hollis.  "Not  intentional,  exactly?'' 

"That  makes  no  difference.  You  may  call  it  ab 
solute  chance,  if  you  like;  but  the  negro  who  dares 
to  lift  a  pistol  against  a  white  man  should  not  be 
left  alive  five  minutes  afterwards,"  declared  the  old 
planter,  implacably. 

"You'd  ought  to  have  lived  in  the  days  of  religious 
wars,"  drawled  Hollis.  "  I  don't  know  anything  else 
carnivorous  enough  to  suit  you." 

"You  must  be  a  Quaker,  sir  !  Tennant  feels  as  I 
do,  he'd  shoot  at  sight." 

"Oh  no,  he  wouldn't,"  said  Hollis.  "He  ain't  a 
Southerner." 

"Tennant  can  speak  for  himself,"  said  the  judge, 
confidently. 

"I'd  shoot  the  man  who  shot  my  brother,"  an 
swered  Paul.  "I'd  go  down  there  to-morrow  —  I 
should  have  gone  long  ago — if  I  thought  there  was 
the  least  chance  of  finding  him."  A  dark  flush  rose 
in  his  face.  "I'm  afraid — even  if  it  was  an  uninten 
tional  shot — that  I  should  want  to  kill  that  man  just 
the  same;  I  should  be  a  regular  savage  !" 

"Would  you  never  forgive  him?"  asked  Eve's 
voice  from  the  shadow. 

"  Blood  for  blood  !"  responded  Paul,  hotly.  "No, 
not  unless  I  killed  himj  then  I  might." 

Eve  rose. 


232  JUPITEE   LIGHTS. 

Paul  got  up.  "  Oh,  are  you  going  ?"  But  she  did 
not  hear  him;  she  had  gone  to  her  lodge.  He  sat 
down  again.  She  did  not  reappear  that  night. 

The  next  morning  she  went  off  for  a  solitary  walk. 
By  chance  her  steps  took  the  direction  of  a  small 
promontory  that  jutted  sharply  into  the  lake,  its  per 
pendicular  face  rising  to  a  height  of  forty  feet  from 
the  deep  water  below;  she  had  been  here  several 
times  before,  and  knew  the  place  well;  it  was  about 
a  mile  from  the  camp.  As  she  sat  there,  Paul's 
figure  appeared  through  the  trees.  He  came  straight 
to  her.  "  I  have  been  looking  for  you,  I  tried  to 
find  you  last  night."  He  paused  a  moment.  "Eve, 
don't  you  see  what  I've  come  for?  Right  in  the 
midst  of  all  this  grief  and  trouble  I've  found  out 
something.  It's  just  this,  Eve:  I  love  you." 

She  tried  to  rise,  but  he  put  his  hand  on  her 
shoulder  to  keep  here  where  she  was.  "  Oh,  but  I 
do,  you  needn't  doubt  it,"  he  went  on,  with  an 
amused  smile — amused  at  himself;  "in  someway 
or  other  the  thing  has  come  about,  I  may  say,  in 
spite  of  me.  I  never  thought  it  would.  But  here 
'tis — with  a  vengeance  !  I  think  of  you  constantly, 
I  can't  help  thinking  of  you;  I  recognize,  at  last, 
that  the  thing  is  unchangeable,  that  it's  for  life; 
have  you  I  must."  The  words  were  despotic,  but 
the  tone  was  entreating;  and  the  eyes,  looking  down 
upon  her,  were  caressing — imploring.  "Yes,  I'm  as 
helpless  as  any  one,"  Paul  went  on,  smiling  as  lie 
said  it;  "I  can't  sleep,  even.  Come,  take  me;  I'm 
not  such  a  bad  fellow,  after  all — I  really  think  I'm 
not.  And  as  regards  my  feeling  for  you,  you  need 
not  be  troubled;  it's  strong  enough  !" 

She  quailed  under  his  ardor. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  233 

"I  haven't  spoken  before  because  there  has  been 
so  much  to  do,"  Paul  continued;  "there  has  been 
Cicely,  and  then  I've  been  harassed  about  business; 
I've  been  in  a  box,  and  trying  to  get  out.  Besides, 
I  wasn't  perfectly  sure  that  ray  time  had  come."  He 
laughed.  "  I'm  sure  now."  He  took  her  in  his  arras. 
"  Don't  let  us  make  any  delays,  Eve  ;  we're  not  so 
young,  either  of  us.  Not  that  you  need  be  afraid 
that  you're  to  be  the  less  happy  on  that  account; 
I'll  see  to  that  !" 

She  broke  from  him. 

But  again  he  came  to  her,  he  took  her  hands,  and, 
kneeling,  laid  his  forehead  upon  them.  "  I  will  be 
as  humble  as  you  like;  only  —  be  good  to  me.  I 
long  for  it,  I  must  have  it." 

A  sob  rose  in  her  throat.  He  sprang  up.  "  Don't 
do  that !  Why,  I  want  to  make  you  absolutely  hap 
py,  if  I  can.  We  shall  have  troubles  enough,  and 
perhaps  we  shall  have  sorrows,  but  at  least  we  shall 
be  together;  you  must  never  leave  me,  and  I  will  do 
all  I  can  to  be  less  rough.  But  on  your  side  there's 
one  thing,  Eve  :  you  must  love  me."  These  last 
words  were  murmured  in  her  ear. 

She  drew  herself  away  from  him.  The  expression 
of  her  face  was  almost  like  death. 

"You  look  as  though  you  were  afraid  of  me  !  I 
thought  you  loved  me,  Eve  ?" 

"  I  do." 

"  Pretend  you  are  a  man,  then,  long  enough  to  say 
'  yes'  without  any  more  circumlocution.  We  will  be 
married  at  Port  aux  Pins.  Then  we  can  take  care 
of  Cicely  together." 

"I  shall  never  marry." 

"Yes,  you  will." 


234  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  leave  Cicely." 

"  She  wouldn't  care  about  that.  She  isn't  even 
fond  of  you." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  say  to  you  ?"  cried  Eve,  her 
hands  dropping  by  her  sides.  "Listen:  it  will  he 
absolutely  impossible  for  you  to  change  my  deter 
mination.  But  I  am  so  horribly  unhappy  that  I  do 
believe  I  cannot  stand  anything  more — any  more 
contests  with  you.  Leave  me  to  myself;  say  noth 
ing  to  me.  But  don't  drive  me  away;  at  least  let 
me  stay  near  you." 

"In  my  arms,  Eve." 

"Let  me  stay  near  you;  see  you;  hear  you  talk; 
but  that  is  all." 

"And  how  long  do  you  suppose  that  could  last? 
It's  a  regular  woman's  idea:  nonsense." 

"Paul,  be  merciful!" 

"  Merciful  ?  Oh,  yes  !"  He  took  her  again  in  his 
arms. 

"I  swear  to  you  thai  I  cannot  marry  you,"  she 
said,  trembling  as  his  cheek  touched  hers.  "  Since 
I've  known  you  I  haven't  wanted  to  die,  I've  wanted 
to  live — live  a  long  life.  But  now  I  do  want  to  die; 
there  is  a  barrier  between  us,  I  cannot  lift  it." 

lie  released  her.  "There  could  be  but  one. — I 
believe  that  you  are  truthful;  is  the  barrier  another 
man  ?" 

Another  man  ?    She  hesitated  a  moment.     "Yes/' 

He  looked  at  her.  "I  don't  believe  you  !  You 
are  lying  for  some  purpose  of  your  own.  See  here, 
Eve,  I  don't  want  to  be  played  with  in  this  way; 
you  love  me,  and  I  worship  you;  by  this  time  next 
week  you  are  to  be  my  wife." 

"  I  must  go  away  from  you,  then  ?     You  won't 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  235 

help  me?  Where  can  I  go!"  She  left  him;  she 
walked  slowly  towards  the  lake,  her  head  bowed. 

He  followed  her.  He  had  paid  no  attention  to 
what  she  was  saying;  "feminine  complications" — 
this  was  all  he  thought.  He  was  very  masterful 
with  women. 

As  he  came  up  she  turned  her  head  and  looked  at 
him.  And,  by  a  sort  of  inspiration,  he  divined  that 
the  look  was  a  farewell.  He  caught  her,  and  none 
too  soon,  for,  as  he  touched  her,  he  felt  the  impulse, 
the  first  forward  movement  of  the  spring  which 
would  have  taken  her  over  the  edge,  down  to  tho 
deep  water  below. 

Carrying  her  in  his  arms,  close  against  his  breast, 
he  hastened  away  from  the  edge;  he  went  inland 
for  a  long  distance.  Then  he  stopped,  releasing  her. 
He  was  extremely  pale. 

"I  believe  you  now,"  he  said.  "All  shall  be  as 
you  like — just  as  you  like;  I  will  do  any  tiling  you 
wish  me  to  do."  He  seemed  to  be  still  afraid,  he 
watched  her  anxiously. 

She  came  and  put  her  hands  on  his  shoulders;  she 
lifted  her  head  and  kissed  his  cheek.  It  was  like  the 
kiss  one  gives  in  the  chamber  of  death. 

He  did  not  move,  he  was  holding  himself  in  strict 
control.  But  he  felt  the  misery  of  her  greeting  so 
acutely  that  moisture  rose  in  his  eyes. 

She  saw  it.  "Don't  be  troubled  about  me,"  she 
said.  "  I  didn't  want  to  die — really,  I  didn't  want  to 
at  all.  It  was  only  because  just  at  that  moment  I 
could  not  bear  it  to  have  you  keep  asking  me  when 
it  was  impossible, — I  felt  that  I  must  go  away;  and 
apart  from  you,  and  Cicely  and  baby,  there  seemed 
no  place  in  the  world  for  me!  But  now  —  now  I 


236  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

want  to  live.  Perhaps  we  shall  both  live  long 
lives." 

"  I'm  not  a  woman,  you  know,"said  Paul,  with  a  faint 
smile.  "  Women  do  with  make-believes;  men  can't." 

She  had  left  him.     "  Go  now,"  she  said. 

He  turned  to  obey.  Then  he  came  back.  "  Eve, 
can't  you  tell  me  your  real  reason  ?" 

But  her  face  changed  so  quickly  to  its  old  look 
of  agony  that  he  felt  a  pang  of  regret  that  he  had 
spoken.  "  I  will  never  ask  you  again,"  he  said. 

This  was  the  offering  he  made  her — a  great  one 
for  Paul  Tennant.  Pie  went  away. 

An  hour  later  she  came  back  to  the  camp. 

"Paul  has  gone  to  Potterpins,"  said  Hollis,  who 
was  sitting  by  the  fire.  "  Told  me  to  give  you  this." 
He  handed  her  a  note. 

It  contained  but  two  lines:  "I  shall  come  back 
next  week.  But.  send  a  note  by  mail;  I  want  to 
know  if  you  are  contented  with  me." 

Eve  wrote  but  one  word — "  Yes." 


XXV. 

PAUL  remained  away  for  ten  days;  not  by  his  own 
wish,  but  detained  by  business. 

During  his  absence  Hollis's  services  were  in  de 
mand.  Cicely  was  now  able  to  go  out  on  the  lake, 
and  he  took  her  for  an  hour  or  two  every  morning 
in  one  of  the  larger  canoes;  the  nurse  and  Cicely 
sat  at  the  bow,  then  came  Porley  and  Jack,  then  Eve, 
then  Hollis.  Cicely  still  did  not  talk,  she  had  not 
again  asked  for  her  grandfather;  but  she  looked  at 
the  water  and  the  woods  on  the  shore,  and  her  face 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  237 

showed  occasionally  some  slight  childish  interest  in 
what  was  passing.  Eve,  too,  scarcely  spoke;  but  it 
was  pleasure  enough  for  poor  Hollis  to  be  opposite 
to  her,  where  he  could  see  her  without  appearing  to 
gaze  too  steadily.  He  had  always  admired  her;  he 
had  admired  her  voice,  her  reticent,  independent 
way;  he  had  admired  her  tall,  slender  figure,  with 
the  broad  sweep  of  the  shoulders,  the  erect  carriage, 
and  lithe,  strong  step.  He  had  never  thought  her 
too  cold,  too  pale;  but  now  in  the  increased  life  and 
color  which  had  come  to  her  she  seemed  to  him  a 
daughter  of  the  gods  —  the  strong  Northern  gods 
with  flaxen  hair;  the  flush  in  her  cheeks  made  her 
eyes  bluer  and  her  hair  more  golden;  the  curve  of 
her  lips,  a  curve  which  had  once  been  almost  sullen, 
was  now  strangely  sweet.  Her  love  had  made  her 
beautiful;  her  love,  too,  made  her  kind  to  Hollis; — 
women  are  often  unconsciously  cruel  in  this  way. 
The  poor  auctioneer  lived  in  a  fool's  paradise  and 
forgot  all  his  cautions;  day-dreams  began  to  visit 
him,  he  was  a  boy  again. 

On  the  eleventh  day  Paul  returned. 

Hollis  happened  to  see  him  meet  Eve.  Outward 
ly  it  was  simply  that  they  shook  hands,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  exchanging  an  unimportant  question 
or  two;  or  rather  Paul  asked,  and  Eve  answered; 
but  Paul's  tone  was  not  what  it  once  had  been,  his 
eyes,  looking  at  Eve,  were  different.  It  was  one 
thing  to  know  that  she  loved  Paul,  Hollis  was  used 
to  that ;  it  was  another  to  know  that  Paul  loved  her. 
He  watched  through  the  day,  with  all  the  acuteness 
of  jealousy,  discovering  nothing.  But  that  evening, 
when  Eve  had  said  good-night  and  started  towards 
her  lodge,  Paul  rose  and  followed  her. 


238  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

"I  guess  I'll  go  down  to  the  lake  for  a  moment  or 
two,"Hollis  said  to  the  judge,  who  was  sitting  by 
the  fire.  He  walked  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
lake;  then,  doubling  upon  his  track,  he  returned, 
avoiding  the  fire  and  going  towards  the  row  of 
lodges.  Presently  he  saw  two  dusky  figures,  a  man 
and  a  woman;  they  stood  there  for  a  moment;  then 
the  man  bent  his  head  and  touched  with  his  lips  the 
woman's  wrist.  It  was  but  for  a  second;  they  sep 
arated,  she  going  towards  her  lodge,  and  he  return 
ing  to  the  fire.  The  watcher  in  the  wood  stole  noise 
lessly  down  to  the  beach  and  got  out  a  canoe;  then 
he  went  off  and  woke  an  Indian.  Presently  the  two 
were  paddling  westward  over  the  dark  lake.  They 
caught  the  steamer.  Hollis  reached  Port  aux  Pins 
the  following  evening. 

From  the  boat  he  went  to  a  restaurant  and  or 
dered  dinner  ;  he  called  it  "  dinner  "  to  make  it  ap 
pear  more  fine.  He  ordered  the  best  that  the  estab 
lishment  could  offer.  He  complained  because  there 
were  no  anchovies.  He  said  to  the  waiter  :  "  This 
patty  de  fograr? — You  must  be  sick  !  Take  away 
these  off-color  peaches  and  bring  me  something  first 
class.  Bring  lick-koors,  too;  can  you  catch  on  to 
that?"  He  drank  a  great  deal  of  wine,  finishing 
with  champagne;  then  he  lit  a  cigar  and  sauntered 
out. 

He  went  to  a  beer-garden.  The  place  Avas  brightly 
lighted;  dusty  evergreens  planted  in  tubs  made  foli 
age;  little  tables  were  standing  in  the  sand;  there 
was  a  stage  upon  which  four  men,  in  Tyrolese  cos 
tume,  were  singing,  "  O  Strassburg,  du  wunder- 
schone  Stadt !"  very  well,  accompanied  by  a  small 
orchestra. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  239 

"  Hello,  Katty,  wie  geht's  ?"  said  Ilollis  to  a  girl 
who  was  passing  with  a  tray  of  empty  beer-glasses. 
She  stopped.  "  Want  some  ice-cream,  Katty  ?" 

"  Oil,  come  now,  Mr.  Ilollis,  you  know  there's  no 
ice-cream  here." 

"  Did  I  say  here  ?  Outside,  of  course.  Come 
along." 

Katty  went,  nothing  loath. 

She  was  a  girl  of  sixteen,  with  bright  eyes,  thick 
braids  of  brown  hair,  and  a  sweet  voice;  the  fairness 
of  extreme  youth  gave  her  a  fictitious  innocence.  He 
took  her  to  the  ephemeral  saloon,  and  sat  looking 
at  her  while  she  devoured  two  large  slabs  of  a  vio 
lently  pink  tint;  her  preposterous  Gainsborough  hat, 
with  its  imitation  plumes,  she  had  taken  off,  and  the 
flaring  gas-light  shone  on  her  pretty  face. 

"  Now  shall  we  have  a  walk,  Katty  ?" 

They  strolled  through  the  streets  for  half  an  hour. 
lie  took  her  into  a  jeweller's  shop,  and  bought  her 
a  German-silver  dog-collar  which  she  had  admired 
in  the  window;  she  wanted  it  to  clasp  round  her 
throat  :  "Close  up,  you  know,  under  the  chin;  it's 
so  cute  that  way."  She  was  profuse  in  her  thanks; 
of  her  own  accord,  when  they  came  out,  she  took  his 
arm. 

He  it'll  into  silence.  They  passed  his  rooms;  Kat 
ty  looked  up.  "All  dark,"  she  said. 

"  Yes.  I  guess  I'll  take  you  back  now,  Katty;  do 
you  want  to  go  home,  or  to  the  garden  again  ?" 

"  I  ain't  accustomed  to  going  to  bed  at  this  early 
hour,  Mr.  Hollis,  whatever  you  may  be.  I'll  go  back 
to  the  gardens,  please." 

When  they  reached  the  entrance,  he  put  his  hand 
in  his  pocket  and  drew  something  out.  "There, 


240  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

Katty,  take  that  and  buy  more  dog-collars.    Money's 
all  an  old  fellow  like  me  is  good  for." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Hollis, — when  I  like  you  better  than 
many  that's  young." 

"  Thank  you,  Katty.     Good-night." 

He  went,  as  he  would  have  called  it,  "home."  On 
the  way  he  passed  his  office;  a  vague  impulse  made 
him  unlock  the  door,  and  look  in,  by  the  light  of  a 
match.  The  skeleton  was  there,  and  the  bonnets  in 
their  bandboxes.  "  I  must  try  to  work  'em  off  be 
fore  winter,"  he  thought;  "they  are  really  elegant." 
He  locked  the  door  again,  and,  going  a  little  farther 
down  the  street,  he  entered  an  open  hallway,  and  be 
gan  to  climb  a  long  flight  of  stairs.  On  the  second 
floor  he  inserted  his  key  in  a  door,  and,  opening,  en 
tered;  he  was  at  home.  The  air  was  close  and  hot, 
and  he  threw  up  the  windows;  leaving  the  candle 
in  the  outer  room,  he  went  and  sat  down  in  his  par 
lor,  crossing  his  legs,  and  trying  to  lean  back;  every 
chair  in  the  room  was  in  its  very  nature  and  shape 
uncomfortable.  Sitting  there,  his  life  in  retrospect 
passed  slowly  before  him,  like  a  picture  unrolling 
itself  on  the  dark  wall;  he  saw  all  the  squalid  poverty 
of  it,  all  its  disappointments,  its  deprivations.  "  From 
first  to  last  it's  been  a  poor  affair;  I  wonder  how  I've 
stood  it  1"  The  dawn  came  into  the  room,  he  did 
not  move;  he  sat  there  with  his  hat  on  until  the  lit 
tle  bell  of  the  Baptist  church  near  by  began  to  ring 
for  Sabbath-school.  He  listened  to  the  sound  for  a 
while,  it  was  persistent;  finally  he  got  up;  his  legs 
felt  stiff,  he  brushed  some  dust  from  his  trousers 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand;  then  he  went  out. 

He  went  down  to  the  street,  and  thence  to  the 
Baptist  church.  The  door  stood  open,  and  he  went 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  241 

in;  the  children  were  already  in  their  places,  and  the 
organ  was  sounding  forth  a  lively  tune;  presently 
the  young  voices  began  all  together  in  a  chorus, 

' '  The  voice  of  free  grace  cries  escape  to  the  mount-ins — " 

His  mother  used  to  sing  that  song,  he  remembered. 
She  often  sang  it  over  her  work,  and  she  was  always 
at  work — yes,  to  the  very  day  of  her  death ;  she  was 
a  patient,  silent  creature. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I'd  oughter  have  less  pluck 
than  she  had,"  thought  her  son. 

"  Brother,  will  you  have  a  book  ?"  whispered  a  lit 
tle  man  in  a  duster,  proffering  one  from  behind. 

Ilollis  took  it,  and  followed  the  words  as  the  chil 
dren  sang  them  to  the  end.  "When  the  prayer  began, 
he  laid  the  book  down  carefully  on  the  seat,  and  went 
out  on  tiptoe.  He  went  down  to  the  pier;  the  west 
ward  bound  boat  had  just  come  in  ;  he  went  on  board. 

"  Business,"  he  explained  to  the  judge,  when  he 
reached  the  camp.  "  Had  to  go." 

"  Sold  the  skeleton,  perhaps  ?" 

"  Well,  I've  laid  one  !"  responded  Hollis,  grimly. 

The  judge  was  in  gay  spirits,  Cicely  had  been  talk 
ing  to  him  ;  it  had  been  about  Jack,  and  she  had 
said  nothing  of  importance  ;  but  the  sentences  had 
been  rational,  connected. 

Several  days  passed,  and  the  improvement  con 
tinued;  consciousness  had  returned  to  her  eyes,  they 
all  felt  hopeful.  They  had  strolled  down  to  the 
beach  one  evening  to  see  the  sunset,  and  watch  the 
first  flash  of  Jupiter  Light  out  on  its  reef.  Eve  was 
with  Ilollis;  she  selected  him  each  day  as  her  com 
panion,  asking  him  in  so  many  words  to  accompany 
her  ;  Ilollis  went,  showering  out  jokes  and  puns. 
1G 


242  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

Now  and  then  he  varied  his  efforts  at  entertainment 
by  legends  of  what  he  called  "old  times  on  the 
frontier."  They  always  began  :  "  My  father  lived 
on  a  flat-boat.  He  was  a  bold  and  adventurous 
character."  In  reality,  his  father  was  a  teacher  of 
singing,  who  earned  his  living  (sometimes)  by  get 
ting  up  among  school-children,  who  co-operated  with 
out  pay,  a  fairy  operetta  called  The  Queen  of  the 
Flowers  /  he  was  an  amiable  man  with  a  mild  tenor 
voice;  he  finally  became  a  colporteur  for  the  Method 
ist  Book  Concern.  To-day  Ilollis  was  talking  about 
the  flat-boat — maundering  on,  as  he  would  himself 
have  called  it ;  Paul  and  the  judge  strolled  to  and 
fro.  The  water  came  up  smoothly  in  long,  low  swells, 
whose  edge  broke  at  their  feet  with  a  little  sound 
like  "whisssh,"  followed  by  a  retreating  gurgle. 

"  Paul  Tennant,  are  you  there  ?"  asked  a  voice. 

Startled,  they  turned.  On  the  bank  above  the 
beach,  and  therefore  just  above  their  heads  (the 
bank  was  eight  feet  high),  stood  Cicely. 

"  It  is  you  I  want,  Paul  Tennant.  Everything  has 
come  back  to  me ;  I  know  now  that  Ferdie  is  dead. 
You  would  not  let  me  go  to  him;  probably  he  thought 
that  it  was  because  I  did  not  want  to  go.  This  I 
owe  to  you,  and  I  curse  you  for  it.  I  curse  you, 
Paul  Tennant,  I  curse  your  days  and  nights;  all  the 
things  and  people  you  like,  all  your  hopes  and  plans. 
If  you  trust  any  one,  I  hope  that  person  will  betray 
you  ;  if  you  love  any  one,  I  hope  that  person  will 
hate  you  ;  if  you  should  have  any  children,  I  hope 
they  will  be  disobedient,  and,  whatever  they  may  be 
to  others,  undutiful  to  you." 

"  Cicely,  stop  !"  cried  Eve.  "  Will  no  one  stop 
her?" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  243 

"God,  curse  Paul  Tennant.  He  has  been  so  cruel!" 
She  was  now  kneeling  down,  her  arms  held  up  to 
heaven  in  appeal. 

The  judge  looked  waxily  pallid  ;  Ilollis  did  not 
move;  Paul,  much  less  disturbed  than  any  one,  was 
already  climbing  the  bank.  It  was  perpendicular, 
and  there  was  neither  footing  nor  hold,  but  after 
one  or  two  efforts  he  succeeded.  When  he  reached 
the  top,  however,  Cicely  was  gone.  He  went  to  her 
lodge ;  here  he  found  her  sitting  quietly  beside 
Jack's  bed  ;  she  was  alone,  neither  the  nurse  nor 
Porley  was  with  her.  Before  he  could  speak,  Eve 
appeared,  breathless. 

"  Where  is  the  nurse,  Cicely  ?"  Paul  asked,  in  his 
usual  tone. 

"Do  you  mean  that  woman  whom  you  have  put 
over  me  ?  She  has  gone  for  a  walk." 

"And  Porley?" 

"  You  will  find  Porley  at  the  big  pine." 

"  What  is  she  doing  there  ?" 

"  I  didn't  want  her  about,  so  I  tied  her  to  the 
trunk,"  Cicely  answered.  "Probably  she  is  fright 
ened,"  she  added,  calmly. 

"Go  and  find  her,"  said  Eve  to  Paul.  "I  will 
stay  here." 

"Have  nothing  to  do  with  Paul  Tennant,  Eve," 
Cicely  remarked.  "  He  is  almost  a  murderer.  He 
didn't  go  to  his  brother  ;  he  let  him  die  alone." 

"  I  shall  not  leave  you,"  said  Paul,  looking  at  Eve's 
white  cheeks. 

"  Have  you  fallen  in  love  with  each  other?"  asked 
Cicely.  "It  needed  only  that," 

"  I  beg  you  to  go,"  Eve  entreated. 

Paul  hesitated.  "Will  you  promise  not  to  leave 
this  lodge  until  I  come  back  ?" 


244  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"Yes." 

Paul  went  out.  As  he  did  so,  he  saw  the  judge 
approaching,  leaning  heavily  on  Hollis's  arm. 

"It's  nothing,"  Hollis  explained.  "The  judge, 
he's  only  tuckered  out;  a  night's  rest  is  all  he  needs." 

"Take  me  to  Cicely,"  the  judge  commanded. 

"  Cicely  ought  to  be  quiet  now,"  Paul  answered 
in  a  decided  voice.  "  Eve  is  with  her,  and  they're 
all  right  ;  women  do  better  alone  together,  you 
know,  when  one  of  them  has  hysteria." 

"  Hysteria  !  Is  that  what  you  called  it  ?"  said 
the  judge. 

"  Of  course.  And  it's  natural,"  Paul  went  on  : — 
"poor  little  girl,  coming  to  herself  suddenly  here  in 
the  woods,  only  to  realize  that  her  husband  is  dead. 
We  shall  have  to  be  doubly  tender  with  her,  now 
that  she  is  beginning  to  be  herself  again." 

"You  didn't  mind  it,  then  ?"  pursued  the  judge. 
He  was  relieved,  of  course — glad.  Still  it  began  to 
seem  almost  an  impertinence  that  Paul  should  have 
paid  so  little  attention  to  what  had  been  to  the  rest 
of  them  so  terrible. 

"  Mind  ?  Do  you  mean  what  she  was  sajdng  ?  I 
didn't  half  hear  it,  I  was  thinking  how  I  could  get 
Tip  that  bank.  And  that  reminds  me  there's  some 
thing  wrong  with  Porley;  she's  at  the  big  pine.  I 
am  going  out  there  to  see.  Cicely  told  me  that  she 
had  tied  her  in  some  way." 

"  If  she  did,  the  wench  richly  deserved  it,"  said  the 
judge,  going  towards  his  lodge,  his  step  stiff  and  slow. 

"He  came  mighty  near  a  stroke," . said  Ilollis  to 
Paul  in  an  undertone. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  go  with  him,  then  ?" 

"Oh  yes;  I'll  go."     He  went  towards  the  judge's 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  245 

lodge.  "  You  go  right  into  that  lodge,  fool  Hollis, 
and  stay  there, — stay  with  that  unreasonable,  vituper 
ative,  eantankerous  old  Bourbon  of  a  judge,  and — 
judge  of  Bourbon  !  You  smooth  him  down,  and  you 
hearten  him  up,  you  agree  with  him  every  time;  you 
tuck  him  in,  you  hang  his  old  clothes  over  a  chair, 
you  take  his  shoes  out,  and  black  'em;  and  you  con 
duct  yourself  generally  like  one  of  his  own  nigs  in 
the  glorious  old  days  of  slavery  —  Maryland,  my 
Maryland  !"  He  lifted  the  latch  of  the  door,  and 
went  in. 

Paul,  meanwhile,  had  gone  to  the  big  pine;  when 
he  reached  it,  the  twilight  had  darkened  into  night. 
A  crouching  figure  stood  close  to  the  trunk — Porley; 
she  was  tied  by  a  small  rope  to  the  tree,  the  firm  lig 
atures  encircling  her  in  three  places — at  the  throat, 
the  waist,  and  the  ankles  ;  in  addition,  her  hands 
were  tied  behind  her. 

"  Well,  Porley,  a  good  joke,  isn't  it  ?"  Paul  said, 
as  he  cut  the  knots  of  the  rope  with  his  knife. 

"Ah-Aoo/"  sobbed  the  girl,  her  fright  breaking 
into  audible  expression  now  that  aid  was  near. 

"Mrs.  Morrison  thought  she  would  see  how  brave 
you  were." 

"Ah-hoo!  Ah-hoo-hoo-Aoo/"  roared  Porley,  in  a 
paroxysm  of  frantic  weeping. 

"If  you  are  so  frightened  as  that,  what  did  you 
let  her  do  it  for  ?  You  are  five  times  as  strong  as 
;;he  is." 

"I  coulden  tech  her,  marse — I  coulden!  Says  she, 
'  A-follerin'  an'  spyin',  Porley?  Take  dat  rope  an' 
come  wid  me.'  So  I  come.  She's  cunjud  me,  marse; 
I  is  done  i'er." 

"  Nonsense  !     Where's  the  nurse  ?" 


246  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"I  (loan  know — I  (loan  know.  Says  she, '  We'll 
take  a  walk,  Miss  Mile.'  An'  off  dey  went,  'way 
ober  dat  way.  Reckon  Miss  Mile's  dead  !" 

"No  more  dead  than  you  are.  Go  back  to  the 
camp  and  un-cunjer  yourself;  there's  a  dollar  to  help 
it  along." 

He  went  off  in  the  direction  she  had  indicated. 
After  a  while  he  began  to  call  at  intervals;  there 
was  a  distant  answer,  and  he  called  again.  And 
then  gradually,  nearer  and  nearer,  came  the  self- 
respecting  voice  of  Mary  Ann  Mile.  Each  time  he 
shouted,  "Hello  there  !"  her  answer  was,  "Yes,  sir; 
present-lee,"  in  a  very  well-educated  tone. 

"  What  is  this,  Mrs.  Mile  ?" 

"You  may  well  ask,  sir.  Such  an  incident  has 
never  happened  to  me  before.  Mrs.  Morrison  re 
marked  that  she  should  enjoy  a  walk,  and  I  therefore 
went  with  her;  after  we  had  proceeded  some  dis 
tance,  suddenly  she  darted  off.  I  followed  her,  and 
kept  her  in  sight  for  a  while,  or  rather  she  kept  me 
in  sight;  then  she  disappeared,  and  I  perceived  not 
only  that  I  had  lost  her,  but  that  I  myself  was  lost. 
It  is  a  curious  thing,  sir, — the  cleverness  of  people 
whose  minds  are  disordered  !" 

"  Her  mind  is  no  longer  disordered,  Mrs.  Mile;  she 
has  got  back  her  senses." 

"  Do  you  consider  this  an  instance  of  it  ?"'  asked 
the  nurse,  doubtfully. 

When  Paul  left  Cicely's  lodge,  Eve  closed  the 
door.  "Cicely,  I  have  something  to  tell  you. 
Listen." 

';It  is  a  pity  you  like  that  man — that  Paul  Ten- 
nant,"  Cicely  answered. 

"  If  I  do  like  him,  I  can  never  be  anything  to  him. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  247 

This  is  what  I  wanted  to  tell  you:  that  I  shot  his 
brother." 

"  Well,  if  his  brother  was  like  him — " 

"  Oil,  Cicely,  it  was  Ferdie — your  Ferdie." 

"  What  do  you  know  about  Ferdie  ?•'  demanded 
Cicely,  coldly.  "  He  never  liked  you  in  the  least." 

"  Don't  you  know,  Cicely,  that  Ferdie  is  dead  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  it.  Paul  would  not  let  me  go  to 
him,  and  he  died  all  alone." 

"And  do  you  know  what  was  the  cause  of  his 
death  ?" 

"Yes;  he  was  shot;  there  were  some  negroes,  they 
got  away  in  a  boat." 

"  No,  there  were  no  negroes  ;  I  shot  him.  I  took 
a  pistol  on  purpose." 

"  It  seems  to  be  very  hard  work  for  you  to  tell 
me  this,  you  are  crying  dreadfully,"  remarked  Cicely, 
looking  at  her.  "  Why  do  you  tell  ?" 

"  Because  I  am  the  one  you  must  curse.    Not  Paul." 

"  It's  all  for  Paul,  then." 

"  But  it  was  for  you  in  the  first  place,  Cicely. 
Don't  you  remember  that  we  escaped  ? — that  we 
went  through  the  wood  to  the  north  point? — that 
you  tried  to  push  the  boat  off,  and  couldn't  ?  Baby 
climbed  up  by  one  of  the  seats,  and  Ferdie  saw  him, 
and  made  a  dash  after  him;  then  it  was  that  I  fired. 
I  did  it,  Cicely.  Nobody  else." 

"Oh,"  said  Cicely,  slowly,  "you  did  it,  did  you?" 
She  rose.  "And  Paul  kept  me  from  going  to  him! 
It  was  all  you  two."  She  went  to  the  crib,  and  lift 
ed  Jack  from  his  nest.  He  stirred  drowsily;  then 
fell  asleep  again.  (Poor  little  Jack,  what  journeys  !) 

"  Open  that  door  ;  and  go,"  Cicely  commanded. 

Eve  hesitated  a  moment.     Then  she  obeyed. 


248  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Cicely  wrapped  a  shawl  about  Jack,  and  laid  him 
down;  she  set  to  work  and  made  two  packets  of 
clothing — one  for  herself,  and  one  for  the  child — 
slinging  them  upon  her  arm;  she  put  on  her  straw 
hat,  took  Jack,  and  went  out,  closing  the  door  be 
hind  her.  Eve,  who  was  waiting  outside  in  the  dark 
ness,  followed  her.  She  dared  not  call  for  help  ;  she 
hoped  that  they  might  meet  Paul  coming  back,  or 
Porley,  or  the  nurse.  But  they  met  no  one,  Paul  was 
still  at  the  big  pine.  Cicely  turned  down  to  the 
beach,  and  began  to  walk  westward.  Eve  followed, 
moving  as  noiselessly  as  possible;  but  Cicely  must 
have  heard  her,  though  she  gave  110  sign  of  it,  for, 
upon  passing  a  point,  Eve  found  that  she  had  lost 
her,  there  was  no  one  in  sight.  She  ran  forward, 
she  called  her  name  entreatingly;  she  stood  by  the 
edge  of  the  water,  fearing  to  see  something  dark 
floating  there.  She  called  again,  she  pleaded.  No 
answer  from  the  dusky  night.  She  turned  and  ran 
back  to  the  camp. 

At  its  edge  she  met  Paul.  "You  promised  me 
that  you  would  not  leave  the  lodge,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  Paul,  I  don't  know  where  she  is.  Oh, 
come — hurry,  hurry  !" 

They  went  together.  She  was  so  tired,  so  breath 
less,  that  he  put  his  arm  round  her  as  a  support. 

"Oh,  do  not." 

"This  is  where  you  ought  always  to  be  when  you 
are  tired — in  my  arms." 

"  Don't  let  us  talk.     She  may  be  dead." 

"  Ppor  little  Cicely  !     But  you  are  more  to  me." 

His  tones  thrilled  her,  she  felt  faint  with  happi 
ness.  Suddenly  came  the  thought:  "When  we  find 
her,  she  will  tell  him  !  She  will  tell  him  all  I  said." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  249 

"  Don't  believe  her ;  don't  believe  anything  she 
may  tell  you,"  she  entreated,  passionately.  A  fierce 
feeling  took  possession  of  her;  she  would  tight  for  her 
happiness.  "  Am  I  nothing  to  you  ?"  she  said,  paus 
ing;  "  my  wish  nothing  ?  Promise  me  not  to  believe 
anything  Cicely  says  against  me, — anything  !  It's 
all  an  hallucination." 

Paul  had  not  paid  much  heed  to  her  exclamations, 
he  thought  all  women  incoherent;  but  he  perceived 
that  she  was  excited,  exhausted,  and  he  laid  his  hand 
protectingly  on  her  hair,  smoothing  it  with  tender 
touch.  "  Why  should  I  mind  what  she  says  ?  It 
would  be  impossible  for  her  to  say  anything  that 
could  injure  you  in  my  eyes,  Eve." 

Beyond  the  next  point  they  saw  a  light;  it  came 
from  a  little  fire  of  twigs  on  the  beach.  Beside  the 
fire  Avas  Jack;  he  was  carefully  wrapped  in  the  shawl, 
the  two  poor  little  packets  of  clothing  were  arranged 
under  him  as  a  bed;  Cicely's  straw  hat  was  under 
his  head,  and  her  handkerchief  covered  his  feet.  But 
there  was  no  Cicely.  They  went  up  and  down  the 
beach,  and  into  the  wood  behind;  again  Eve  looked 
fearfully  at  the  water. 

"  She  isn't  far  from  Jack,"  said  Paul.  "  We  shall 
find  her  in  a  moment  or  two." 

Eve's  search  stopped.  "In  a  moment  or  two  he 
will  know  !" 

"Here  she  is  !"  cried  Paul. 

And  there  was  Cicely,  sitting  close  under  the  bank 
in  the  deepest  shadow.  She  did  not  move  ;  Paul  lifted 
her  in  his  arms. 

"The  moon  is  under  a  cloud  now,"  she  explained, 
in  a  whispering  voice;  "as  soon  as  it  comes  out,  I 
shall  see  Ferdie  over  there  on  the  opposite  shore, 


250  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

and  I  shall  call  to  him.  "  Don't  let  that  fire  go  out, 
I  haven't  another  match;  he  will  need  the  light  as  a 
guide." 

"  She  thinks  she  is  on  Singleton  Island  !"  said  Eve; 
— "  the  night  we  got  away." 

Her  tone  was  joyous. 


XXVI. 

PAUL  and  Eve  took  Cicely  back  to  the  camp.  And 
almost  immediately,  before  Mrs.  Mile  could  undress 
her,  she  had  fallen  asleep.  It  was  the  still  slumber 
of  exhaustion,  but  it  seemed  also  to  be  a  rest;  she 
lay  without  moving  all  that  night,  and  the  next  day, 
and  the  night  following.  As  she  slumbered,  gradu 
ally  the  tenseness  of  her  face  was  relaxed,  the  lines 
grew  lighter,  disappeared ;  then  slowly  a  pink  colored 
her  cheeks,  restoring  her  beauty. 

They  all  came  softly  in  from  time  to  time  to  stand 
beside  her  for  a  moment.  The  nurse  was  sure  that 
the  sleep  was  nature's  medicine,  and  that  it  was 
remedial;  and  when  at  last,  on  the  second  day,  the 
dark  eyes  opened,  it  could  be  seen  that  physically 
the  poor  child  was  well. 

She  laughed  with  Jack,  she  greeted  her  grand 
father,  and  talked  to  him;  she  called  Porley  "  Dil- 
sey,"  and  told  her  that  she  was  much  improved.  "  I 
will  give  you  a  pair  of  silver  ear-rings,  Dilsey,  when 
we  get  home."  For  she  seemed  to  comprehend  that 
they  were  not  at  home,  but  on  a  journey  of  some 
sort.  The  memory  of  everything  that  had  happened 
since  Ferdie's  arrival  at  llomney  had  been  taken 
from  her;  she  spoke  of  her  husband  as  in  South 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  251 

America.  But  she  did  not  talk  long  on  any  sub 
ject.  She  wished  to  have  Jack  always  with  her, 
she  felt  a  tranquil  interest  in  her  grandfather,  and 
this  was  all.  With  the  others  she  was  distant.  Her 
manner  to  Eve  was  exactly  the  manner  of  those  first 
weeks  after  Eve's  arrival  at  Rornney.  She  spoke 
of  Paul  and  Hollis  to  her  grandfather  as  "your 
friends." 

She  gathered  flowers;  she  talked  to  the  Indians, 
who  looked  at  her  with  awe;  she  wandered  up  and 
down  the  beach,  singing  little  songs,  and  she  spent 
hours  afloat.  Mrs.  Mile,  who,  like  the  well-trained 
nurse  that  she  was,  had  no  likes  or  dislikes  as  re 
garded  her  patients,  and  who  therefore  cherished 
no  resentment  as  to  the  manner  in  which  she  had 
been  befooled  in  the  forest — Mrs.  Mile  thoroughly 
enjoyed  "turning  out  "  her  charge  each  morning  in 
a  better  condition  than  that  of  the  day  before. 
Cicely  went  willingly  to  bed  at  eight  every  evening, 
and  she  did  not  wake  until  eight  the  next  morning; 
when  she  came  out  of  her  lodge  after  the  bath,  the 
careful  rubbing,  and  the  nourishing  breakfast  which 
formed  part  of  Mrs.  Mile's  excellent  system,  from 
the  crisp  edges  of  her  hair  down  to  her  quick-step 
ping  little  feet,  she  looked  high-spirited,  high-bred, 
and  fresh  as  an  opening  rose.  Mrs.  Mile  would  fol 
low,  bringing  her  straw  hat,  her  satisfaction  ex 
pressed  by  a  tightening  of  her  long  upper  lip  that 
seemed  preliminary  to  a  smile  (though  the  smile 
never  came),  and  by  the  quiet  pride  visible  in  her 
well -poised  back.  When,  as  generally  happened, 
Cicely  went  out  on  the  lake,  Mrs.  Mile,  after  over 
seeing  with  her  own  eyes  the  preparations  for  lunch, 
would  retire  to  a  certain  bench,  whence  she  could 


252  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

watch  for  the  returning  boats,  and  devote  herself  to 
literature  for  a  while,  always  reading  one  book,  the 
History  of  Windham,  Connecticut,  Windham  being 
her  native  place.  As  she  sat  there,  with  her  plain 
broad-cheeked  face  and  smooth  scanty  hair,  her  stiff 
white  cuffs,  her  neat  boots,  size  number  seven,  neat 
ly  crossed  before  the  short  skirt  of  her  brown  gown, 
she  made  a  picture  of  a  sensible,  useful  person  (with 
out  one  grain  of  what  a  man  would  call  feminine  at 
tractiveness).  But  no  one  cared  to  have  her  attrac 
tive  at  Jupiter  Light;  they  were  grateful  for  her 
devotion  to  Cicely,  and  did  not  study  her  features. 
They  all  clustered  round  Cicely  more  constantly 
than  ever  now,  this  strange  little  companion,  so  fair 
and  fresh,  so  happily  unconscious,  by  God's  act,  of 
the  sorrows  that  had  crushed  her. 

Paul  was  back  and  forth,  now  at  the  camp  for  a 
day  or  two,  now  at  Port  aux  Pins.  One  afternoon, 
when  he  was  absent,  Eve  went  to  the  little  forest 
burying-ground  belonging  to  Jupiter  Light.  On 
the  way  she  met  Cicely,  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Mile. 

"Where  are  you  going?  I  will  go  with  you,  I 
think,"  Cicely  remarked.  "It  can't  be  so  tiresome 
as  this" 

Mrs.  Mile  went  intelligently  away. 

"  I  am  very  tired  of  her,"  Cicely  continued;  "  she 
looks  like  the  Mad  Hatter  at  the  tea-party:  this 
style  ten-and-six.  Why  are  you  turning  off  ?" 

"  This  path  is  prettier." 

"  No;  I  want  to  go  where  you  were  going  first." 

"  Perhaps  she  won't  mind,"  thought  Eve. 

When  they  came  to  the  little  enclosure,  Cicely 
looked  at  it  calmly.  "  Is  this  a  garden  ?''  she  asked. 
She  began  to  gather  wild  flowers  outside.  Eve 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  253 

\vent  within;  she  cleared  the  fallen  leaves  from  the 
grave  of  the  little  girl.  While  she  was  thus  occu 
pied,  steps  came  up  the  path,  and  Hollis  appeared; 
making  a  sign  to  Eve,  he  offered  his  arm  quickly  to 
Cicely.  "  Mrs.  Morrison,  the  judge  is  in  a  great 
hurry  to  have  you  come  back." 

"  Grandpa  ?"  said  Cicely.     "  Is  he  ill  ?" 

"Yes,  he  is  very  ill  indeed,"  replied  Hollis,  de 
cidedly. 

"  Poor  grandpa  !"  said  Cicely.     "Let  us  hurry." 

They  went  back  to  the  camp.  Reaching  it,  he 
took  her  with  rapid  step  to  her  lodge,  where  the 
judge  and  Mrs.  Mile  were  waiting.  "You  are  ill, 
grandpa  ?"  said  Cicely,  going  to  him. 

"  I  am  already  better." 

"  But  not  by  any  means  well  yet,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Mile;  "he  must  stay  here  in  this  lodge,  and  you 
shouldn't  leave  him  for  one  moment,  Mrs.  Morrison." 

Porley  and  Jack  were  also  present;  every  now  and 
then  Mrs.  Mile  would  give  Porley  a  peremptory  sign. 

Ilollis  and  Eve  stood  together  near  the  door  talk 
ing  in  low  tones.  "  A  muss  among  the  Indians," 
Hollis  explained.  "  Those  we  brought  along  are 
peaceful  enough  if  left  to  themselves;  in  fact,  they 
are  cowards.  But  a  dangerous  fellow,  a  very  dan 
gerous  scamp,  joined  them  this  morning  on  the  sly, 
and  they've  got  hold  of  some  whiskey;  I  guess  he 
brought  it.  I  thought  I'd  better  tell  you;  the  cook 
is  staying  with  them  to  keep  watch,  and  the  judge 
and  I  are  on  the  lookout  here;  I  don't  think  there  is 
the  least  real  danger;  still  you'd  better  keep  under 
cover.  If  Paul  comes,  we  shall  be  all  right." 

"  Do  you  expect  him  to-day  ?" 

"Sorter;  but  I'm  not  sure." 


254  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

A  drunken  shout  sounded  through  the  forest. 

"  An  Indian  spree  is  worse  than  a  white  man's," 
remarked  Hollis.  "  But  you  ain't  afraid,  I  see  that !" 
He  looked  at  her  admiringly. 

"  I'm  only  afraid  of  one  thing  in  the  world,"  re 
plied  Eve,  taking,  woman-like,  the  comfort  of  a  con 
fession  which  no  one  could  understand. 

"  Can  you  shoot  ?"  Hollis  went  on. — "  Fire  a  pis 
tol  ?" 

She  blanched. 

"  There,  now,  never  mind.  'Twas  only  a  chance 
question." 

"No,  tell  me.  I  can  shoot  perfectly  well;  as  well 
as  a  man." 

"  Then  I'll  give  you  my  pistol.  You'll  have  no 
occasion  to  use  it,  not  the  least  in  the  world;  but 
still  you'll  be  armed." 

"  Put  it  on  the  table.     I  can  get  it  if  necessary." 

"  Well,  I'll  go  outside.  I'm  to  stroll  about  where 
I  can  see  the  cook;  that's  my  cue;  and  you  can  stay 
near  the  door,  where  you  can  see  me  ;  that's  yours. 
And  the  judge,  he  has  the  back  window,  one  of  the 
guns  is  there.  All  right?  Bon-sor,  then."  He 
went  out. 

Eve  sat  down  by  the  door.  The  judge  kept  up 
a  conversation  Avith  Cicely,  and  anxiously  played 
quiet  games  with  little  Jack,  until  both  fell  asleep; 
Cicely  fell  asleep  very  easily  now,  like  a  child.  Mrs. 
Mile  lifted  her  in  her  strong  arms  and  laid  her  on 
the  bed,  while  Porley  took  Jack;  poor  Porley  was 
terribly  frightened,  but  rather  more  afraid  of  Mrs. 
Mile,  on  the  whole,  than  of  the  savages. 

By-and-by  a  red  light  flashed  through  the  trees 
outside;  the  Indians  had  kindled  a  fire. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  255 

Twenty  minutes  later  Hollis  paused  at  the  door. 
"Paul's  coming,  I  guess;  I  hear  paddles." 

"  Of  course  you'll  go  down  and  meet  him  ?"  said 
Eve. 

"No,  I  can't  leave  the  beat." 

"  I  can  take  your  place  for  that  short  time." 

"  Don't  you  show  your  head  outside — don't  you  !" 
said  Hollis,  quickly. 

Eve  looked  at  him.  "  I  shall  go  down  to  the 
beach  myself,  if  you  don't."  Her  eyes  were  in- 
flexible. 

All  Hollis's  determination  left  him.  "The  judge 
can  take  this  beat,  then;  you  can  guard  his  win 
dow,"  he  said,  in  a  lifeless  tone.  He  went  down  to 
the  beach. 

All  of  them — the  judge,  Mrs.  Mile,  and  Porley,  as 
well  as  Eve — could  hear  the  paddles  now;  the  night, 
save  for  the  occasional  shouts,  was  very  still.  Eve 
stood  at  the  window.  "  Will  the  Indians  hear  him, 
and  go  down  ?" 

But  they  did  not  hear  him.  In  another  five  min 
utes  Paul  had  joined  them. 

Hollis,  Avho  was  with  him,  gave  a  hurried  explana 
tion.  "  We're  all  right,  now  that  you  are  here,"  he 
concluded;  "we  are  more  than  a  match  for  the 
drunken  scamps  if  they  should  come  prowling  up 
this  way.  When  the  whiskey's  out  of  'em  to-mor 
row,  we  can  reduce  'em  to  reason." 

"  Why  wait  till  to-morrow  ?"  said  Paul. 

"  No  use  getting  into  a  fight  unnecessarily." 

"I  don't  propose  to  fight,"  Paul  answered. 

"They're  eleven,  Tennant,"  said  the  judge;  "you 
wouldn't  have  time  to  shoot  them  all  down." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  shoot,"  Paul  responded.  He 
went  towards  the.  door. 


256  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  Don't  go,"  pleaded  Eve,  interposing. 

He  went  straight  on,  as  though  he  had  not  heard 
her. 

"  I  can't  move  him,"  she  thought,  triumphantly. 
"  I  can  no  more  move  him  than  I  could  move  a 
mountain  !" 

Paul  was  gone.  Hollis  followed  him  to  the  door. 
"  We  two  must  stay  here  and  protect  the  women, 
you  know,"  said  the  judge,  warningly. 

"Why,  certainly,"  said  Hollis;  "of  course, — the 
ladies."  He  came  back. 

Suddenly  Eve  hurried  out. 

Paul  reached  the  Indian  quarters,  and  walked  up 
to  the  fire.  He  gave  a  look  round  the  circle. 

The  newly  arrived  man,  the  one  whom  Ilollis  had 
called  dangerous,  sprang  to  his  feet. 

Paul  took  him  by  the  throat  and  shook  the  breath 
out  of  him. 

When  Hollis  came  hurrying  up,  the  thing  was 
done;  the  other  Indians,  abject  and  terrified,  were 
helping  to  bind  the  interloper. 

"The  cook  can  watch  them  now,"  said  Paul.  "I 
suppose  there's  no  supper,  with  all  this  row  ?" 

Hollis  gave  a  grim  laugh.  "At  a  pinch — like 
this,  I  don't  mind  cooking  one." 

Paul  turned.     And  then  he  saw  Eve  behind  him. 

Hollis  had  gone  to  the  kitchen;  he  did  not  wish 
to  see  them  meet. 

"  You  did  absurdly  wrong  to  come,  Eve,"  said 
Paul,  going  to  her.  "  What  possible  good  was  it  ? 
And  if  there  had  been  real  danger,  you  would  have 
been  in  the  way." 

"  You  are  trembling;  are  you  so  frightened,  then  ?" 
he  went  on,  his  voice  growing  softer. 


JUPITKIl    LIGHTS.  257 

"I  am  not  frightened  now." 

They  went  towards  the  lodge. 

"  It's  a  desolate  life  you've  arranged  for  me,  EVP,* 
he  said,  going  back  to  his  subject,  the  Indians  already 
forgotten.  "I'm  not  to  say  anything  to  you;  I'm 
to  have  nothing;  and  so  we're  to  go  on  apparently 
forever.  What  is  it  you  are  planning  for?  I  am 
sure  I  don't  know.  I  know  you  care  for  me,  and 
I  don't  believe  that  you'll  find  anything  sweeter 
than  the  love  I  could  give  you, — if  you  would  let 
me." 

"  There  is  nothing  sweeter,"  Eve  answered. 

"  Have  you  given  up  keeping  me  off?"  He  drew 
her  towards  him.  She  did  not  resist. 

In  her  heart  rose  the  cry,  "  For  one  day,  for  one 
hour,  let  me  have  it,  have  it  all !  Then — " 


XXVII. 

ON  the  second  day  after  the  alarm,  Paul  took  the 
Indians  back  to  Port  aux  Pins,  and  dismissed  them, 
after  handing  the  ringleader  to  the  proper  authori 
ties;  the  others  slunk  away  with  their  long  black 
hair  hanging  down  below  their  white  man's  hats, 
their  eagle  profiles,  in  spite  of  fierceness  of  outline, 
entirely  unalarming.  Paul  then  selected  half  a 
dozen  Irishmen,  the  least  dilapidated  he  could  find 
(the  choice  lay  between  Indians  and  Irishmen),  and 
brought  them  to  Jupiter  Light  to  take  the  place  of 
the  crestfallen  aborigines.  He  remained  there  a 
few  days  to  see  that  all  went  well;  then  he  returned 
to  Port  aux  Pins  for  a  week's  stay.  "  Come  a  little 
way  up  the  lake  to  meet  me,"  he  said  lo  Eve,  as  he 
17 


258  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

bade  her  good-by  ;  "I  shall  be  along  about  four 
o'clock  next  Wednesday  afternoon." 

His  manner  still  remained  a  little  despotic.  But 
to  women  of  strong  will  despotism  is  attractive  ; 
when  a  despotism  of  love,  it  is  enchanting.  Eve's 
feeling  was,  "  Oh,  to  have  at  last  found  some  one 
who  is  stronger  than  I !" 

Even  now  not  for  a  moment  did  she  bend  her 
opinions,  her  decisions,  to  his,  of  her  own  accord ; 
each  time  it  was  simply  that  she  was  conquered  ; 
after  contesting  the  point  as  strongly  as  she  could, 
how  she  gloried  in  feeling  herself  overridden  at  last! 
She  would  look  at  Paul  with  delighted  eyes,  and 
laugh  in  triumph.  To  have  yielded  because  she 
loved  him,  would  have  had  a  certain  sweetness;  but 
to  be  conquered  unyielding,  that  was  a  satisfaction 
whose  intensity  could  go  no  further. 

Since  that  walk  in  the  darkness  from  the  Indian 
quarters  to  Cicely's  lodge,  when,  suddenly,  she  had 
let  her  love  have  its  way,  she  had  allowed  herself  to 
be  carried  along  by  chance  events  whithersoever" 
they  pleased;  she  had  defied  conscience,  she  had  ac 
cepted  the  bliss  that  hung  temptingly  before  her ; 
she  did  not  think,  she  only  enjoyed.  Once  or  twice 
she  had  sent  forth  mentally  this  defiance, — "If  you 
feel  as  I  do,  then  you  may  judge  me!"  To  whom 
was  this  said?  To  Fate?  To  the  world  at  large? 
In  reality  it  was  said  to  all  women  who  in  that  sum 
mer  of  1869  were  young  enough  to  love:  "If  you 
can  feel  as  I  do,  then  you  may  judge  me."  But  it 
was  only  once  or  twice  that  this  mood  had  come  to 
her,  only  once  or  twice  that  she  thought  of  anything 
but  Paul ;  his  offered  hand  taken,  her  acceptance  of 
it  was  at  least  superb  in  its  completeness;  there  was 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  259 

no  looking  back,  no  fear,  no  regret;  nothing  but  the 
fulness  of  joy. 

Still  sweeter  was  it  to  feel  that,  deeply  as  she 
loved,  she  was  loved  as  deeply.  Paul  might  be  im 
perious,  he  might  be  negligent  in  explaining  things, 
and  in  other  small  ways;  but  there  was  nothing  neg 
ligent  in  his  passion.  His  genius  for  directness, 
which  puzzled  Ilollis  in  other  matters,  showed  itself 
also  here ;  he  had  little  to  say — that  was  possible — 
but  no  woman  could  have  misunderstood  the  lan 
guage  of  his  eyes  or  of  the  touch  of  his  hand;  or  fail 
to  be  thrilled  by  it.  The  feeling  that  possessed  him 
went  straight  to  its  end,  namely,  Eve  Bruce  for  his 
wife;  the  same  Eve  whom  he  had  not  liked  at  all  at 
first ;  to  whom  he  had  found  it  difficult  only  a  few 
weeks  before  to  write  a  short  letter.  This  inconsis 
tency  did  not  trouble  him  ;  love  had  arrived,  had 
descended  upon  him  in  some  way,  he  knew  not  how, 
had  taken  possession  of  him  by  force  and  forever — 
he  recognized  that,  and  did  not  contest  it.  Women 

O  * 

are  only  women  :  this  had  been  one  of  the  settled 
convictions  in  the  depths  of  his  mind,  and  it  was  a 
conviction  not  much  changed  even  now  ;  yet  this 
same  Paul,  with  his  mediaeval  creed,  made  a  lover 
much  more  invincible  than  a  hundred,  a  thousand 
other  men,  who  would  have  said,  perhaps,  that  they 
revered  women  more.  "  Revered  ?"  Paul  would 
have  answered,  "  I  don't  revere  Eve,  I  love  her  !" 

"Whatever  name  he  gave  it,  she  knew  that  she  held 
the  joy  of  his  life  in  her  hands,  that  he  would  come  to 
her  for  this — had  already  come ;  and  that  it  always 
would  be  so.  This  was  happiness  enough  for  her. 

This  happiness  had  existed  but  ten  days.  But 
these  days  had  seemed  like  months  of  joy,  she  had 


260  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

lived  each  moment  so  fully.  "Sejecl,  Prince  of 
Ethiopia,  vowed  to  have  three  days  of  uninterrupted 
happiness — "  she  might  have  remembered  the  old 
fable  and  its  ending.  But  she  remembered  nothing, 
she  scorned  to  remember;  let  the  unhappy,  the  un 
loved,  think  of  the  past;  she  would  drink  in  all  the 
sunshine  of  the  present,  she  would  live,  live ! 

"  Row  a  little  way  up  the  lake  to  meet  me,"  Paul 
had  said.  At  half-past  three  of  the  afternoon  he 
had  indicated,  she  went  to  the  beach ;  one  of  the 
Irishmen,  under  her  direction,  began  to  push  down 
a  canoe.  The  open  way  in  which  she  did  this — in 
which  she  had  done  everything  since  that  night — 

•  o  o 

was  in  itself  an  effectual  disguise ;  no  one  thought 
it  remarkable  that  she  should  be  going  to  meet 
Paul.  As  she  was  about  to  take  her  place  in  the 
canoe,  Ilollis  appeared. 

"Going  far?  We  don't  knoAV  much  about  that 
Paddy,"  he  said,  in  an  undertone. 

"Only  to  meet  Paul." 

"  If  he's  late,  you  may  have  to  go  a  good  way." 

"  He  won't  be"  late." 

"  Well,  he  may  be,"  answered  Hollis,  patiently. 
"I  guess  I'll  take  you,  if  you'll  let  me;  and  then, 
when  we  meet,  I'll  come  back  with  his  man  in  the 
other  canoe." 

"  Very  well,"  Eve  responded.  She  did  not  com 
ment  upon  the  terms  of  his  offer,  she  did  not  care 
what  he  thought.  She  took  her  place,  and  he  pad 
dled  westward. 

It  was  a  beautiful  afternoon  ;  a  slight  coolness, 
which  made  itself  felt  through  the  sunshine,  showed 
that  the  short  Northern  summer  was  approaching 
its  end.  As  she  sat  with  her  back  to  the  prow,  she 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  261 

was  obliged  to  turn  her  head  to  look  for  the  other 
canoe;  and  this  she  did  many  times.  After  one  of 
these  quests,  she  saw  that  Hollis's  eyes  were  upon  her. 

"  Is  there  any  change  in  me  ?"  she  asked,  laughing. 

"  Rather !" 

"What  is  it?" 

But  poor  Hollis  did  not  know  how  to  say,  "You 
are  so  much  more  beautiful." 

"  It's  my  white  dress,"  Eve  suggested,  in  a  some 
what  troubled  voice.  "I  had  it  made  in  Port  aux 
Pins.  It's  only  pique."  She  smoothed  the  folds  of 
the  skirt  for  a  moment,  doubtfully. 

"I  guess  white  favors  you,"  answered  Hollis,  with 
what  he  would  have  called  a  festive  wave  of  his 
hand. 

Her  mood  had  now  changed.  "  It's  no  matter, 
I'm  not  afraid  !"  She  was  speaking  her  thoughts 
aloud,  sure  that  he  would  not  understand.  But  he 
did  understand. 

The  other  canoe  came  into  sight  after  a  while, 
shooting  round  a  point  ;  Eve  waved  her  handker 
chief  in  answer  to  Paul's  hail;  the  two  boats  met. 

"  Mr.  Hollis  knows  that  you  are  to  take  me  back," 
said  Eve,  as  eagerly  as  a  child. 

Paul  glanced  at  Hollis.  But  the  other  man  bore 
the  look  bravely.  "  Proud  to  be  of  service,"  he  an 
swered,  waving  his  hand  again,  with  two  fingers  ex 
tended  lightly.  He  changed  places  with  Paul;  Paul 
and  Eve,  in  their  canoe,  glided  away. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Cicely,  who  had  been 
asleep,  opened  her  eyes.  Her  lodge  was  quiet;  Mrs. 
Mile  was  reading  near  the  window,  her  seat  carefully 
placed  so  that  the  light  should  fall  over  her  left 
shoulder  upon  the  page. 


262  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

Cicely  gazed  at  her  for  some  time  ;  then  she 
jumped  from  the  couch  with  a  quick  bound.  "  It's 
impossible  to  lie  here  another  instant  and  see  that 
History  of  Wind  ham  !  The  next  thing,  you'll  be 
proposing  to  read  it  aloud  to  me;  you  look  exactly 
like  a  woman  who  loves  to  read  aloud."  She  began 
to  put  on  her  shoes. 

"You  are  going  for  a  walk?  I  shall  be  glad  to 
go  too,"  answered  Mrs.  Mile  promptly,  putting  a 
marker  in  her  book,  and  rising. 

"No,"  responded  Cicely;  "I  can't  have  those 
boots  of  yours  pounding  along  beside  me  to-day, 
Priscilla  Jane.  Impossible." 

"  Well,  I  do  declare  !"  said  Mrs.  Mile,  reduced  in 
her  surprise  to  the  language  of  her  youth.  "  They 
can't  pound  much,  Mrs.  Morrison,  in  the  sand  ;  and 
there's  nothing  but  sand  here." 

"  They  grind  it  down  !"  answered  Cicely.  "  You 
can  call  grandpa,  if  you  don't  want  me  to  go  alone; 
but  come  with  me  to-day  you  shall  not,  you  clean, 
broad -faced,  turn-out-your-toes,  do-your-duty  old 
relict  of  Abner  Whittredge  Mile."  She  looked  at 
Mrs.  Mile  consideringly  as  she  said  this,  bringing 
out  each  word  in  a  soft,  clear  tone. 

The  judge  was  listlessly  roving  about  the  beach. 
Mrs.  Mile  gave  him  Cicely's  request.  "She  is  say 
ing  very  odd  things  to-day,  sir,"  she  added,  imper 
sonally. 

The  judge,  alarmed,  hurried  to  the  lodge  ;  Mrs. 
Mile  could  not  keep  up  with  him. 

"Priscilla  Jane  is  short  -  winded,  isn't  she?"  re 
marked  Cicely,  at  the  lodge  door,  as  he  joined  her. 
"Whenever  she  comes  uphill,  she  always  stops, 
and  pretends  to  admire  the  view,  while  she  pants, 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  263 

'  What  a  beautiful  scene  !  What  a  privilege  to  see 
it !' " 

The  judge  grinned ;  he  too  had  heard  Mrs.  Mile 
speak  of  "  privileges." 

"  Come  for  a  walk,  grandpa,"  Cicely  went  on. 
She  took  his  arm  and  they  went  away  together,  fol 
lowed  by  the  careful  eyes  of  the  nurse,  who  had 
paused  at  the  top  of  the  ascent. 

"  This  is  a  ruse,  grandpa,"  Cicely  said,  after  a 
while.  "  I  wanted  to  take  a  walk  alone,  and  she 
wouldn't  let  me;  but  you  will." 

"  Why  alone,  my  child  ?" 

"  Because  I'm  always  being  watched;  I'm  just  like 
a  person  in  a  cell,  don't  you  know,  with  one  of  those 
little  windows  cut  in  the  door,  through  which  the 
sentinel  outside  can  always  look  in  ;  I  am  never 
alone." 

"It  must  be  dreadful,"  the  judge  answered,  with 
conviction. 

"  Wait  till  you  have  seen  Priscilla  Jane  in  her 
night-gown,"  said  Cicely,  with  equal  conclusiveness. 

"  Heaven  forbid !"  said  the  judge,  with  a  shrill 
little  chuckle.  Then  he  turned  and  looked  at  her; 
she  seemed  so  much  like  her  old  self. 

"You  will  let  me  go,  grandpa?"  She  put  up  her 
face  and  kissed  him. 

"  If  you  will  promise  to  come  back  soon." 

"  Of  "course  I  will." 

He  let  her  go  on  alone.  She  looked  back  and 
smiled  once  or  twice;  then  he  lost  sight  of  her;  he 
returned  to  the  beach  by  a  roundabout  way,  in  order 
to  deceive  Priscilla  Jane ;  he  was  almost  as  much 
pleased  as  Cicely  to  outwit  her. 

Cicely  went  on  through  the  forest ;  she  walked 


264  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

slowly,  not  stopping  to  gather  flowers  as  usual. 
After  a  while  her  vague  glance  rested  upon  two 
figures  in  the  distance.  She  stopped,  and  as,  by 
chance,  she  was  standing  close  beside  the  trunk  of  a 
large  tree,  her  own  person  was  concealed.  The  two 
figures  were  coming  in  her  direction,  they  drew 
nearer,  they  paused;  and  then  there  followed  a  pict 
ure  as  old  as  Paris  and  Helen,  as  old  as  Tristram 
and  Isolde :  a  lover  taking  in  his  arms  the  woman 
he  adores.  And  it  was  Paul  Tennant  who  was  the 
lover;  it  was  Eve  who  looked  up  at  him  with  all  her 
heart  in  her  eyes. 

A  shock  passed  over  Cicely,  the  expression  of  her 
face  changed  rapidly  as  her  gaze  remained  fixed 
upon  Eve  :  first,  surprise  ;  then  a  strange  quick 
anger  ;  then  perplexity.  She  left  her  place,  and 
went  rapidly  forward. 

Eve  saw  her  first,  she  drew  herself  away  from 
Paul;  but  immediately  she  came  back  to  him,  laying 
her  hand  on  his  shoulder  as  if  to  hold  him,  to  keep 
him  by  her  side. 

"  Paul,"  said  Cicely,  still  looking  at  Eve,  "  some 
thing  has  come  to  me  ;  Eve  told  me  that  she  did  a 
dreadful  thing."  And  now  she  transferred  her  gaze 
to  Paul,  looking  at  him  with  earnestness,  as  if  ap 
pealing  to  him  to  lighten  her  perplexity. 

"Yes,  dear;  let  us  go  back  to  the  camp,"  said 
Paul,  soothingly. 

"Wait  till  I  have  told  you  all.  She  came  to  mo, 
and  asked —  I  don't  know  where  it  was  exactly?" 
And  now  she  looked  at  Eve,  inquiringly. 

Eve's  eyes  met  hers,  and  the  deep  antagonism  of 
the  expression  roused  the  dulled  intelligence.  "  How 
you  do  hate  me,  Eve  !  It's  because  you  love  Paul. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  205 

I  don't  see  how  Paul  can  like  yon,  when  you  were  al 
ways  so  hard  to  Ferdie;  for  from  the  first  she  was  hard 
to  him,  Paul ;  from  the  very  first.  I  remember — " 

Eve,  terrified,  turned  away,  thus  releasing  Cicely 
from  the  spell  of  her  menacing  glance. 

Cicely  paused ;  and  then  went  back  to  her  former 
narrative  confusedly,  speaking  witli  interruptions, 
with  pauses.  "  She  came  to  me,  Paul,  and  she  asked, 
*  Cicely,  do  you  know  how  he  died  ?'  And  I  said, 
'Yes;  there  were  two  negroes.'  And  she  answered 
me,  'No;  there  were  no  negroes — 

"  Dreams,  Cicely,"  said  Paul,  kindly.  "  Every  one 
has  dreams  like  that." 

"No.  I  have  a  great  many  dreams,  but  this  was 
not  one  of  them,"  responded  Cicely.  "  Wait;  it  will 
come  to  me." 

"  Take  her  back  to  the  camp;  carry  her,"  said  Eve, 
in  a  sharp  voice. 

"  Oh,  she'll  come  without  that,"  Paul  answered, 
smiling  at  the  peremptory  tone. 

"You  go  first,  then.     I  will  bring  her." 

"  Don't  leave  me  alone  with  Eve,"  pleaded  Cicely, 
shrinking  close  to  Paul. 

"Take  her  back,"  said  Eve.  And  her  voice  ex 
pressed  such  acute  suffering  that  Paul  did  his  best 
to  content  her. 

"  Come,"  he  said,  gently,  taking  Cicely's  hand. 

"A  moment,"  answered  Cicely,  putting  her  other 
hand  on  Paul's  arm,  as  if  to  hold  his  attention. 
"And  then  she  said:  '  Don't  you  remember  that  we 
escaped  through  the  woods  to  the  north  point,  and 
that  you  tried  to  push  off  the  boat,  and  couldn't. 
Don't  vou  remember  that  gleam  of  the  caudle  down 
the  dark  road  ?'  " 


2G6  JUPITEE   LIGHTS. 

Eve  made  an  involuntary  movement. 

"  I  wonder  what  candle  she  could  have  been  think 
ing  of  !"  pursued  Cicely,  in  a  musing  voice.  "  There 
are  a  great  many  candles  in  the  Catholic  churches, 
that  I  know." 

Eve  looked  across  at  Paul  with  triumph  in  her 
eyes. 

"  And  she  said  that  a  baby  climbed  up  by  one  of 
the  seats,"  Cicely  went  on.  "  And  that  this  man — I 
don't  know  who  he  was,  exactly — made  a  dash  for 
ward —  Here  she  lost  the  thread,  and  stopped. 
Then  she  began  again:  "She  took  me  away  ever  so 
far — we  went  in  a  steamboat  ;  and  Ferdie  died  all 
alone!  You  carft  like  her  for  that,  Paul;  you  can't!" 
Her  face  altered.  "  Why  don't  I  see  him  over  there 
on  the  other  beach  ?"  she  asked,  quickly. 

"You  see?"  said  Eve,  with  trembling  lips. 

"Yes,"  answered  Paul,  watching  the  quivering 
motion.  "  We  haven't  had  our  walk,  Eve  ;  remem 
ber  that." 

"  I  can  come  out  again.  After  we  have  got  her 
back." 

Cicely  had  ceased  speaking.  Slie  turned  and 
searched  Eve's  face  with  eyes  that  dwelt  and  lin 
gered.  "  How  happy  you  look,  Eve  !  And  yet  I  am 
sure  you  have  no  right  to  be  happy,  I  am  sure  there 
is  some  reason —  The  trouble  is  that  I  can't  remem 
ber  what  it  is  !  Perhaps  it  will  come  to  me  yet," 
she  added,  threateningly. 

Paul  drew  her  away;  he  took  her  back  to  the  camp. 

That  evening,  Eve  came  to  him  on  the  beach. 

"Do  you  love  me  ?  Do  you  love  me  the  same  as 
ever  ?"  she  said. 

lie  could  scarcely  hear  her. 


JUPITEK    LIGHTS.  267 

"Do  you  think  I  have  had  time  to  change  since 
afternoon  ?"  he  asked,  laughing. 

And  then  life  came  back  to  the  woman  by  his  side, 
came  in  the  red  that  flushed  her  cheeks  and  her 
white  throat,  in  her  revived  breath. 

"Paul,"  she  said,  after  a  while,  "send  Cicely 
home;  send  her  home  with  her  grandfather,  she  can 
travel  now  without  danger." 

"  I  can't  desert  Cicely,"  said  Paul,  surprised. 

"It  wouldn't  be  desertion;  you  can  always  help 
her.  And  she  would  be  much  happier  there  than 
here." 

"She's  not  going  to  be  very  happy  anywhere,  I 
am  afraid." 

"The  judge  would  be  happier,  too,"  said  Eve, 
shifting  her  ground. 

"I  dare  say.     Poor  old  man!" 

"A  winter  in  Port  aux  Pins  would  kill  him,"  Eve 
continued. 

"  I  intended  to  take  them  south  before  the  real 
winter,  the  deep  snow." 

"Mrs. Mile  could  go  now.  And — and  perhaps  Mr. 
Hollis." 

"  Kit  ?     What  could  Kit  do  down  there  ?" 

"  Marry  Miss  Sabrina,"  suggested  Eve,  with  a  sud 
den  burst  of  wild  laughter,  in  which  Paul  joined. 

"They  are  all  to  go,  are  they?  But  you  and  I 
are  not  to  go;  is  that  your  plan  ?"  he  went  on. 

"Yes." 

He  kissed  her.  "Paul  Tennant  and  his  wife  will 
take  Cicely  south  themselves,"  he  said,  stroking  her 
hair  caressingly.  "  It's  always  braided  so  closely, 
Eve;  how  long  is  it  when  down?" 

But  she  did  not  hear  these  whispered  words ;  she 


268  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

drew  herself  away  from  him  with  passionate  strength. 
"No,  she  must  go  with  some  one  else;  she  can  go 
with  any  one  you  please;  we  can  have  two  nurses, 
instead  of  one.  But  you — you  must  not  go;  you 
must  stay  with  me." 

"  Why,  Eve,  I  hardly  know  you  !  Why  do  you 
feel  so  about  poor  little  Cicely  ?  Why  strike  a  per 
son  who's  down  ?" 

"Oh,  yes — down;  that  is  what  you  all  say.  Yet 
she  has  had  everything,  even  if  she  has  lost  it  now; 
and  some  people  go  through  all  their  lives  without 
one  single  thing  they  really  care  for.  She  shall  not 
rob  me  of  this,  I  will  not  let  her.  I  defy  her;  I  defy 
her !" 

"  She  shall  go  back  to  Romney,"  said  Paul.  What 
these  disagreements  between  the  two  women  were 
about,  he  did  not  know.  His  idea  was  that  he  would 
marry  Eve  as  soon  as  possible — within  the  next  ten 
days;  and  then,  after  they  were  married,  he  would 
tell  her  that  it  was  best  that  they  should  take  Cicely 
south  themselves.  She  would  see  the  good  sense  of 
his  decision,  she  would  not  dispute  his  judgment 
when  once  she  was  his  wife  ;  she  could  not  have 
any  real  dislike  for  poor  little  Cicely,  that  was  im 
possible. 

Eve  came  back  to  him  humbly  enough.  "  I  am 
afraid  you  do  not  like  my  interfering  with  your 
plans  ?"  she  said. 

"  You  may  interfere  as  much  as  you  like,"  an 
swered  Paul,  smiling. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  269 


XXVIII. 

THE  next  day  Paul  started  at  dawn  for  Port  aux 
Pins,  he  wished  to  make  the  house  ready  for  his 
wife;  he  had  not  much  money,  but  there  was  one 
room  in  the  plain  cottage  which  should  be  beautiful. 
No  suspicion  came  to  him  that  there  would  be  any 
difficulty  in  making  it  beautiful;  his  idea  was  simply 
that  it  was  a  matter  of  new  furniture. 

He  reached  Port  aux  Pins  at  night,  and  let  him 
self  into  his  cottage  with  his  key;  lighting  a  candle, 
he  went  to  his  room.  He  had  never  been  dissatis- 
iied  with  this  simple  apartment,  he  was  not  dissatis 
fied  now;  there  was  a  good  closet,  where  he  could 
hang  up  his  clothes;  there  was  a  broad  shelf,  where 
he  could  put  his  hand  in  the  dark  upon  anything 
which  he  might  want;  there  was  his  iron  bedstead, 
and  there  was  his  white-pine  bureau;  two  wooden 
chairs;  a  wash-hand  stand,  with  a  large  bowl  ;  a 
huge  tin  pail  for  Avater,  a  flat  bath-tub  in  position 
on  the  floor,  and  plenty  of  towels  and  sponges — 
what  could  man  want  more? 

But  a  woman  would  want  more;  and  he  gave  a 
little  laugh,  which  had  a  tin-ill  in  it,  as  he  thought 
of  Eve  standing  there,  and  looking  about  her  at  his 
plain  masculine  arrangements.  The  bare  floor  would 
not  please  her,  perhaps;  he  must  order  a  carpet. 
"Turkey,"  he  thought,  vaguely;  he  had  heard  the 
word,  and  supposed  that  it  signified  something  very 
light  in  color,  with  a  great  many  brilliant  roses. 
"  Perhaps  there  ought  to  be  a  few  more  little  things," 


270  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

he  said  to  himself,  doubtfully.  Then,  after  another 
moment's  survey:  "  But  I  needn't  be  disturbed,  she'll 
soon  till  it  full  of  tottlish  little  tables  and  dimity; 
she'll  flounce  everything  with  white  muslin,  and  tie 
everything  with  blue  ribbons  ;  she'll  overflow  into 
the  next  room  too,  this  won't  be  enough  for  her. 
Perhaps  I'd  better  throw  the  two  into  one,  with  a  big- 
fireplace — I  know  she  likes  big  fireplaces  ;  if  it's  as 
large  as  that,  I  sha'n't  be  suffocated,  even  with  all  her 
muslin."  And,  with  another  fond  laugh,  he  turned  in. 

The  morning  after  Paul's  departure,  Eve  did  not 
go  near  Cicely;  she  asked  Mrs.  Mile,  in  a  tone  which 
even  that  unimaginative  woman  found  haughty, 
how  Mrs.  Morrison  was.  (In  reality  the  haughtiness 
hid  a  trembling  fear.) 

"  She  seems  better,  Miss  Bruce,  as  regards  her 
physical  state.  Truth  compels  me  to  add,  however, 
that  she  says  extremely  irrational  things." 

"  "What  things  ?"  asked  Eve,  with  a  pang  of  dread. 
For  the  things  which  Mrs.  Mile  would  call  irrational 
might  indicate  that  Cicely  was  herself  again,  Mrs. 
Mile's  idea  of  the  rational  being  always  the  com 
monplace. 

"  "When  she  first  woke,  ma'am,  she  said,  '  Oh,  what 
a  splendid  wind! — how  it  does  blow!  I  must  go  out 
and  run  and  run.  Can  you  run,  Priscilla  Jane?'— 
when  my  name,  ma'am,  is  Priscilla  Ann.  Seeing 
that  she  was  so  lively,  I  began  to  tell  her  a  dream 
which  I  had  had.  She  interrupted  me:  'Dreams  are 
ihe  reflections  of  our  thoughts  by  day,  Priscilla  Jane. 
I  know  your  thoughts  by  day;  they  are  wearing.  I 
don't  want  repetitions  of  them  by  night,  I  should  be 
ground  to  powder.'  Now,  ma'am,  could  anything 
be  more  irrational  ?" 


JUPITEK    LIGHTS.  271 

"She  is  herself  again!"  thought  Eve.  She  went 
off  into  the  forest,  and  did  not  return  until  the  noon 
meal  was  over.  Going  to  the  kitchen,  she  ate  some 
bread,  she  was  fond  of  dry  bread;  coming  back  after 
this  frugal  repast,  she  still  avoided  Cicely's  lodge, 
she  went  down  to  the  beach.  Here  her  restlessness 
ceased  for  the  moment;  she  sat  looking  over  the  wa 
ter,  her  eyes  not  seeing  it,  seeing  only  Paul.  After 
half  an  hour,  Hollis,  with  simulated  carelessness, 
passed  that  way  and  stopped.  As  soon  as  he  saw 
her  face  he  said  to  himself,  "  They  are  to  be  mar 
ried  immediately!" 

"  We  sha'n't  be  staying  much  longer  at  Jupiter 
Light,  I  guess,"  he  said  aloud,  in  a  jocular  tone. 

"No,"  Eve  answered.  "The  summer  is  really 
over,"  she  added,  as  if  in  explanation. 

"  Don't  look  much  like  it  to-day." 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  Paul  went  back  to  Potterpins  rather  in  a  hurry, 
didn't  he  ?"  pursued  Hollis,  playing  with  his  misery. 

"  Yes. — He  has  a  good  deal  to  do,"  she  continued. 
If  he  could  not  resist  playing  with  his  misery,  nei 
ther  could  she  help exultingin  her  happiness,  parading 
it  for  her  own  joy  in  spoken  words;  it  made  it  more 
real. 

"Good  deal  to  do?  He  didn't  tell  me  about  it; 
perhaps  I  could  have  helped  him,"  Hollis  went  on 
awkwardly,  but  looking  at  her  with  all  his  heart  in 
his  eyes — his  poor,  hungry,  unsatisfied  old  heart. 

"You  could  be  of  use  to  us,"  said  Eve,  suddenly; 
("Us!"  thought  Hollis.) — "the  very  greatest,  Mr. 
Ilollis.  If  you  would  go  south  with  Judge  Aber- 
crombie  and  Mrs.  Morrison  it  would  be  everything. 
They  will  probably  go  in  a  week  or  ten  days,  and 


272  JUP1TEK   LIGHTS. 

Mrs.  Mile  accompanies  them;  but  if  you  could  go 
too,  it  would  be  much  safer." 

"  And  you  to  stay  in  Port  aux  Pins  with  Paul," 
thought  Hollis.  "  I  don't  grudge  it  to  you,  Evie, 
God  knows  I  don't — may  you  be  very  happy,  sweet 
one  !  But  I  shall  have  to  get  out  of  this  all  the 
same.  I'm  ashamed  of  myself,  old  fellow  that  I  am, 
but  I  can't  stand  it,  I  can't  !  I  shall  have  to  clear 
out.  I'll  go  west." 

Eve,  meanwhile,  was  waiting  for  his  reply.  "Of 
course,  Miss  Bruce,"  he  answered  aloud,  "  should 
like  nothing  better  than  a  little  run  down  South. 
Why,  the  old  judge  and  me,  we'll  make  a  regular 
spree  of  it  !"  And  he  slapped  his  leg  in  confirmation. 

Eve  gave  him  a  bright  smile  by  way  of  thanks. 
But  she  was  too  much  absorbed  to  talk  long  with 
anybody,  and  presently  she  left  him,  taking  a  path 
through  the  woods. 

In  fifteen  minutes  her  restlessness  brought  her 
back  again.  She  stopped  at  the  edge  of  the  camp; 
Porley,  near  by,  was  making  "houses" — that  is, 
squares  and  pyramids  of  the  little  pebbles  of  the 
beach,  which  Master  Jack  demolished  when  com 
pleted,  with  the  air  of  a  conqueror.  "  Porley,  go  and 
ask  the  nurse  how  Mrs.  Morrison  is  now; — whether 
she  is  more  quiet." 

"  Mis'  Morrison,  she's  ebber  so  much  weller  to 
day,"  volunteered  Porley.  "  When  she  ain't  so  quiet, 
Miss  Bruce — droppin'  off  inter  naps  all  de  time — den 
she's  weller." 

"  Do  as  I  tell  you,"  said  Eve. 

The  girl  went  off. 

"  House,"  demanded  Jack. 

Eve  took  him  on  her  shoulder  instead. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  273 

"  Sing  to  Jacky ;  ^oov,poor  Jacky  1"  said  the  child, 
gleefully. 

"  Mis'  Mile,  she  say  Mis'  Morrison  done  gone  ter 
sleep  dish  yere  minute,"  reported  Porley,  with  a  crest 
fallen  air,  returning. 

Eve's  spirits  rose.  "Oh,  Jack,  naughty  boy!" 
She  laughed  convulsively,  lifting  up  her  shoulder, 
as  the  child  tried  to  insert  one  of  his  pebbles  under 
her  linen  collar,  selecting  a  particularly  ticklish  spot 
on  her  throat  for  the  purpose. — "  Do  you  want  to 
go  out  on  the  lake  ?" 

Jack  dropped  his  pebble;  he  was  always  wild  with 
delight  at  the  prospect  of  a  voyage.  Porley  picked 
up  his  straw  hat,  and  brought  his  little  coat,  in  case 
the  air  should  grow  cool;  in  ten  minutes  they  were 
afloat.  Eve  turned  the  canoe  down  the  lake,  row 
ing  eastward. 

After  a  voyage  of  twenty  minutes,  she  headed  the 
boat  shoreward  and  landed;  the  woods  hereabout 
had  a  gray  -  green  look  which  tempted  her  ;  they 
brought  back  the  memory  of  that  first  walk  with 
Paul.  "See  to  Jack,"  she  said  to  Porley  briefly, 
lifting  the  child  safely  to  the  beach.  "I  shall  be 
back  soon."  Entering  the  wood,  she  walked  on  at 
random,  keeping  within  sight  of  the  water. 

She  was  lost  in  a  day-dream,  one  of  those  day 
dreams  which  come  sometimes  to  certain  tempera 
ments  with  such  vividness  that  the  real  world  dis 
appears;  she  was  with  Paul,  she  was  looking  at  him, 
his  arm  was  round  her,  their  future  life  together  un- 

*  O 

rolled  itself  before  her  day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  in 
all  its  details;  in  her  happiness,  all  remembrance  of 
anything  else  vanished  away. 

How  long  this  state  lasted  she  never  knew.     At  a 
18 


274  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

certain  point  a  distant  cry  crossed  the  still  ecstasy; 
but  it  reached  her  vaguely,  it  did  not  bring  her  back. 
A  second  summons  was  more  distinct;  but  it  seemed 
an  impertinence  which  it  was  not  necessary  to  an 
swer.  A  third  time  came  the  sound,  and  now  there 
were  syllables:  "  Miss  E-eve  !  Miss  E-eve  !"  Then, 
a  moment  later,  "Oh,  Ha-by !"  She  recogni/ed  the 
shrillness  of  a  negro  woman's  voice — it  was  Porley. 
"  Baby  ?"  That  could  only  mean  Jack  !  The  trance 
was  over,  she  felt  as  if  a  whip  had  been  brought 
suddenly  down  upon  her  shoulders.  She  rushed  to 
the  lake,  and  from  there  along  the  beach  towards  the 
spot  where  she  had  left  the  child. 

The  screams  grew  louder.  A  bend  hid  that  part 
of  the  beach  from  her  view;  would  she  never  reach 
the  end  of  that  bend  !  She  was  possessed  by  a  great 
fear.  "Oh,  don't  let  anything  happen  to  baby!" 
She  could  not  have  told  herself  to  whom  she  was 
appealing. 

At  last  she  reached  the  curve,  she  saw  what  had 
happened:  the  child,  alone  in  the  canoe,  had  been 
carried  out  to  deep  water. 

Porley,  frantic  with  grief,  had  waded  out  as  far 
as  she  could;  she  was  standing  with  the  water  up  to 
her  chin,  sobbing  aloud.  Eve's  flushed  face  turned 
white.  She  beckoned  to  Porley  to  come  to  her. 
Then  she  forced  herself  to  stand  motionless,  in  or 
der  to  recover  her  breath.  As  Porley  came  up, 
"  Stop  crying  !"  she  commanded.  "  We  must  not 
frighten  him.  Go  back  under  the  trees  where  he 
cannot  see  you,  and  sit  there  quietly  :  don't 
speak." 

When  she  was  left  alone,  she  went  up  the  beach 
until  she  was  on  a  line  with  the  canoe  ;  the  boat 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  275 

moved  waywardly  and  slowly,  but  it  was  being  car 
ried  all  the  time  still  farther  from  the  shore.  "  Jacky, 
are  you  having  a  good  time  out  there?"  she  called, 
with  a  smiling  face,  as  though  the  escapade  had  been 
his  own,  and  he  had  cleverly  outwitted  them. 

There  was  not  a  grain  of  the  coward  in  the  child. 
"Ess,"  he  called  back,  triumphantly.  He  was  sit 
ting  on  a  folded  shawl  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe, 
holding  on  with  his  hands  to  the  sides  ;  his  eyes 
came  just  above  its  edge. 

"Aunty  Eve  is  going  to  get  a  boat  and  come  out 
after  you,"  Eve  went  on;  "  then  we'll  go  fishing.  But 
Jack  must  sit  perfectly  still,  or  else  she  won't  come; 
perfectly  still.  Does  Jacky  hear  ?" 

"  Ess,"  called  Jack  again. 

"If  you  are  tired,  put  your  head  down  and  go  to 
sleep.  Aunty  Eve  will  come,  soon  if  you  are  still; 
not  if  you  move  about." 

"I's  still,"  called  Jack,  in  a  high  key. 

"  If  there  was  only  a  man  here  !— a  man  could 
swim  out  and  bring  the  boat  in,"  she  thought,  wring 
ing  her  hands,  and  then  stopping  lest  Jack  should 
see  the  motion.  She  did  not  allow  herself  to  think 
— "  If  Paul  were  only  here  !"  It  was  on  Paul's  ac 
count,  to  be  able  to  think  of  him  by  herself,  to  dream 
of  their  daily  life  together — it  was  for  this  that  she 
had  left  her  brother's  child  on  that  solitary  beach, 
with  only  a  careless  negro  girl  to  watch  over  him  ! 
But  there  was  no  man  near,  and  there  was  no  second 
boat.  The  canoe  was  already  visibly  farther  away; 
little  Jack's  eyes,  looking  at  her,  were  becoming  in 
distinct,  she  could  see  only  the  outline  of  his  head 
and  the  yellow  of  his  curls.  She  waved  her  hand  to 
him  and  sang,  clearly  and  gayly: 


276  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"Row  the  boat,  row  the  boat,  up  to  the  strand  ; 
Before  our  door  there  is  dry  land — " 

And  Jack  answered  with  a  distant  "Ess."  Then  lie 
tried  to  go  on  with  it.  "  Who  puins  idder,  all  boot 
ed  an'  spur-r-rd,"  he  chanted,  straining  his  little  lungs 
to  the  utmost,  so  that  his  auntie  should  hear  him. 

The  tears  poured  down  Eve's  cheeks  as  she  heard 
the  baby  voice;  she  knew  he  could  not  see  them. 
For  an  instant,  she  thought  of  trying  to  swim  out 
to  him  herself.  "  I  can  swim.  It  isn't  very  far." 
She  began  to  unbutton  her  boots.  But  should  she 
have  the  strength  to  bring  him  in,  either  in  the  ca 
noe  or  in  her  arms?  And  if  she  should  sink,  there 
would  be  no  one  to  save  Jack.  She  rebuttoned  her 
boots  and  ran  to  Porley.  "  Go  to  the  beach,  and 
walk  up  and  down  where  Jack  can  see  you.  Call 
to  him  once  in  a  while,  but  not  too  often;  call  gay- 
ly,  don't  let  him  see  that  you  are  frightened;  if  he 
thinks  you  are  frightened,  he  will  become  fright 
ened  himself  and  move  about;  then  he  will  upset  the 
boat.  Do  you  understand  Avhat  I  mean  ?  I  am  go 
ing  back  to  the  camp  for  another  canoe.  Keep  him 
in  sight;  and  try — do  try  to  be  sensible." 

She  Avas  off.  Without  much  hope  she  began  her 
race.  Before  she  passed  beyond  hearing,  Porley's 
voice  came  to  her:  "Hi-yi,  Jack  !  Yo're  kyar'in  on 
now,  ain't  yer  ?  Splendid  fun,  sho  !  Wisht  I  was 
'long  !"  And  then  followed  a  high  chuckle,  which 
Porley  intended  as  a  laugh.  At  least  the  girl  had 
understood. 

Eve  could  run  very  swiftly;  her  light  figure,  with 
its  long  step,  made  running  easy  to  her.  Yet  each 
minute  was  now  so  precious  that  instinctively  she 
used  every  precaution:  she  let  her  arms  hang  life- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  277 

lessly,  so  that  no  energy  should  be  spent  in  poising 
them;  she  kept  her  lips  apart,  and  her  eyes  fixed  on 
the  beach  about  two  yards  in  advance  of  her,  so  that 
she  could  select  as  she  ran  the  best  places  for  her 
feet,  and  avoid  the  loose  stones.  Her  slender  feet, 
too  (undressed  they  were  models  for  a  sculptor), 
aided  her  by  their  elasticity;  she  wore  a  light  boot, 
longer  than  her  foot,  and  the  silken  web  of  her  stock 
ing  was  longer,  so  that  her  step  was  never  cramped. 
But  she  could  not  run  as  rapidly  as  her  canoe  had 
skimmed  the  water  under  her  strong  strokes  when 
it  had  brought  her  here;  and  that  voyage  had  last 
ed  twenty  minutes;  she  remembered  this  with  dread. 
For  a  while'  she  ran  rapidly — too  rapidly;  then, 
feeling  that  her  breath  was  labored,  she  forced  her 
self  to  slacken  her  pace  and  make  it  more  regular; 
as  much  as  possible  like  a  machine.  Thus  she  ran 
on.  Once  she  was  obliged  to  stop.  Then  she  fell 
into  a  long  swinging  step,  throwing  her  body  for 
ward  a  little  from  right  to  left  as  her  wreight  fell 
now  upon  one  foot,  now  upon  the  other,  and  this 
change  was  such  a  relief  that  she  felt  as  if  she  could 
run  the  remaining  distance  with  comparative  ease. 
But  before  she  reached  the  camp,  she  had  come  to 
the  end  of  all  her  arrangements  and  experiments; 
she  was  desperate,  panting. 

"  If  I  can  only  keep  on  until  they  see  me  !" 
The  camp  had  an  unusually  quiet  look;  so  far  as 
her  eyes,  injected  with  red  by  the  effort  she  had 
made,  could  see,  there  were  no  moving  figures  any 
where;  no  one  sitting  on  the  benches;  no  one  on  the 
beach.  Where  were  all  the  people  ? — what  could 
have  become  of  them?  Hollis  and  the  judge? — • 
even  the  cook  and  the  Irishmen  ?  Nothing  stirred;  it 


278  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

seemed  to  her  as  if  the  very  leaves  on  the  trees  and  the 
waters  of  the  lake  had  been  struck  by  an  unnatural 
calm.  She  came  to  the  first  stakes,  where  the  nets  were 
sometimes  spread  out.  The  nets  were  not  there 
now.  Then  she  came  to  the  cistern — a  sunken  cask 
to  which  water  was  brought  from  an  ice-cold  spring; 
still  no  sound.  Then  the  wood-pile;  the  Irishmen 
had  evidently  been  adding  to  it  that  day,  for  an  axe 
remained  in  a  severed  trunk;  but  no  one  was  there. 
Though  she  had  kept  up  her  pace  Avithout  break  as 
she  ran  past  these  familiar  objects,  there  was  now  a 
singing  in  her  ears,  and  she  could  scarcely  see,  ev 
erything  being  rimmed  by  the  hot,  red  blur  which 
seemed  to  exhale  from  her  own  eyes.  She  reached 
the  line  of  lodges  at  last;  leaving  the  beach,  and  go 
ing  through  the  wood,  she  went  straight  to  Cicely's 
door.  It  was  closed.  She  opened  it.  "  Cicely  !"  she 
said,  or  rather  her  lips  formed  the  name  without  a 
sound. 

"What  is  the  matter?  Where  is  Jack?"  cried 
Cicely,  springing  up  as  soon  as  she  saw  Eve's  face. 

They  met,  grasping  each  other's  hands. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  What  have  you  done  with  him  ?" 
Cicely  repeated,  holding  Eve  with  a  grasp  of  iron. 

Eve  could  not  talk.  But  she  felt  the  agony  in  the 
mother's  cry.  "  Safe,"  she  articulated. 

Cicely  relaxed  her  hold.  p]ve  sank  to  her  knees; 
thence  to  the  floor. 

Cicely  seemed  to  i;nderstand  ;  she  brought  a  pil 
low  with  business-like  swiftness,  and  placed  it  under 
Eve's  head;  then  she  waited.  Eve's  eyes  were  closed; 
her  throat  and  chest  labored  so,  as  she  lay  with  her 
head  thrown  back,  that  Cicely  bent  down  and  quick 
ly  took  out  the  little  arrow-pin,  and  unbuttoned  the 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  279 

top  buttons  of  her  dress.  This  relieved  Eve;  the 
convulsive  panting  grew  quiet. 

But  with  her  first  long  breath  she  was  on  her  feet 
again.  "  Come  !"  she  said.  She  opened  the  door  and 
left  the  lodge,  hurrying  down  to  the  beach;  thence 
she  ran  westward  along  the  shore  to  the  point  where 
the  canoes  were  kept.  Cicely  ran  by  her  side  with 
out  speaking;  they  had  no  need  of  words. 

Reaching  the  boats,  Eve  began  to  push  one  of 
them  towards  the  water.  "  Call  Mr.  Hollis; — go  up 
to  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  call,"  she  said  to  Cice 
ly,  briefly. 

"  Gone  fishing,"  Cicely  responded,  helping  to  push 
the  boat  on  the  other  side. 

At  this  moment  some  one  appeared — one  of  the 
Irishmen. 

"Take  him  and  follow  in  that  other  canoe,"  said 
Eve.  "  We  want  all  the  help  we  can  get." 

As  they  pushed  off  rapidly — three  minutes  had 
not  passed  since  they  left  the  lodge — Priscilla  Mile 
came  hurrying  down  to  the  shore;  she  had  been  tak 
ing  her  daily  exercise — a  brisk  walk  of  half  an  hour, 
timed  by  her  watch.  "  Mrs.  Morrison,  Mrs.  Morri 
son,  where  are  you  going?  Take  me  with  you." 

Cicely  did  not  even  look  at  her.  "  Go  on,"  she 
said  to  the  man. 

Eve  was  paddling  rapidly;  the  second  canoe  fol 
lowed  hers. 

When  Mrs.  Mile  found  that  the  two  boats  kept 
on  their  course,  she  went  back  to  the  lodge,  put  on 
her  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  set  off  down  the  beach  in 
the  direction  in  which  they  were  going,  walking  with 
steady  steps,  the  shawl  compactly  pinned  with  two 
strong  shawl-pins  representing  beetles. 


280  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

As  soon  as  they  were  fairly  afloat,  Cicely  called: 
"  Where  is  Jack  ?  Tell  me  about  it." 

"Presently,"  answered  Eve,  without  turning  her 
head. 

"  No.     Now  /"  said  the  mother,  peremptorily. 

"  He  is  out  on  the  lake,  in  the  canoe." 

"  Alone  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Oh  !  and  it's  getting  towards  night !  Row  fast 
er;  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  (This  to  the  Irish 
man.)  "  Eve,  wait;  how  far  out  is  he  ?" 

"  It's  very  calm,"  Eve  answered. 

"But  in  the  dark  we  can  never  find  him,"  wailed 
the  mother,  in  a  broken  voice. 

Eve  made  swift,  tireless  strokes.  The  Irishman 
could  not  keep  up  with  her. 

It  was  growing  towards  night,  as  Cicely  had  said; 
the  days  were  shorter  now;  clouds  were  gathering 
too,  though  the  air  and  water  remained  strangely 
still;  the  night  would  be  dark. 

"Your  arms  are  like  willow  twigs,  you  have  no 
strength,"  said  Cicely  to  the  Irishman.  "Hurry  !" 

The  man  had  plenty  of  strength,  and  was  exerting 
every  atom  of  it.  Still  Eve  kept  ahead  of  him.  "  Oh, 
Jack !"  she  said  to  herself,  "let  me  be  in  time  !"  It 
was  her  brother  to  whom  she  was  appealing. 

She  reached  the  spot  where  she  had  left  Porley; 
but  there  was  no  Porley  there.  Without  stopping, 
she  paddled  on  eastward;  Cicely's  canoe  was  nov/ 
some  distance  behind.  Fifteen  minutes  more  and 
she  saw  Porley,  she  rowed  in  rapidly.  "  Where  is  lie  ?" 

"  Dair  !"  answered  Porley,  pointing  over  the  dark 
ening  water  with  a  gesture  that  was  tragic  in  its 
despair. 


JUPITEK   LIGHTS.  281 

At  first  Eve  saw  nothing;  then  she  distinguished 
a  black  speck,  she  pointed  towards  it  with  her 
paddle. 

"  Yass'm,  dat's  him.  I  'ain't  nebber  take  my  yies 
off  'em,"  said  the  girl,  crying. 

"  Tell  Mrs.  Morrison.  She's  coming,"  said  Eve. 
She  turned  her  boat  and  paddled  out  rapidly  tow 
ards  the  speck. 

"  If  I  only  had  matches — why  didn't  I  bring  some  ? 
It  will  be  dark  soon.  But  it's  so  calm  that  nothing 
can  have  happened  to  him;  he  will  be  asleep."  lu 
spite  of  her  pretended  certainty,  however,  dread  held 
her  heart  as  in  a  vise.  "  I  won't  think — only  row." 
She  tried  to  keep  her  mind  a  blank,  resorting  to  the 
device  of  counting  her  strokes  with  great  interest. 
On  the  light  craft  sped,  with  the  peculiar  skimming 
motion  of  the  Indian  canoe,  as  if  it  were  gliding 
on  the  surface  of  the  water.  The  twilight  grew 
deeper. 

There  came  a  little  gust,  lightning  showed  itself 
for  an  instant  in  the  bank  of  clouds  across  the  south 
ern  sky.  "  There  is  going  to  be  a  storm."  She 
stopped;  the  other  boat,  which  had  been  following 
her  swiftly,  came  up. 

"Have  you  ever  been  out  in  a  canoe  in  a  storm  ?" 
she  called  to  the  Irishman,  keeping  her  own  boat 
well  away  from  Cicely's. 

"No,  mum." 

"  Take  Mrs.  Morrison  back  to  shore,  then,  as  fast 
as  you  can." 

"  Go  on  !"  commanded  Cicely,  with  flashing  eyes. 

There  came  another  gust.  The  man,  perplexed 
by  the  contrary  orders,  made  wrong  strokes  ;  the 
boat  careened,  then  righted  itself. 


282  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  Take  her  back,"  called  Eve,  starting  onward 
again. 

"  Follow  that  canoe  !"  said  Cicely. 

The  man  tried  to  obey  Cicely;  to  intensify  his 
obedience  he  stood  up  and  paddled  with  his  back 
bent.  There  came  another  flurry  of  wind;  his  boat 
careened  again,  and  he  lost  his  balance,  he  gave  a 
yell.  For  a  moment  Eve  thought  that  he  had  gone 
overboard.  But  he  had  only  crouched.  "Go  back 
— while  you  can,"  she  called,  warningly. 

And  this  time  he  obeyed  her. 

"  Eve,  take  me  with  you — take  me  !"  cried  Cice 
ly,  in  a  tone  that  went  to  the  heart. 

"  We  needn't  both  of  us  die,"  Eve  answered,  call 
ing  back  for  the  last  time. 

As  she  went  forward  on  her  course,  lightning  be 
gan  to  show  itself  frequently  in  pallid  forks  on  the 
dark  cloud-bank.  "If  only  there's  no  gale!"  she 
thought.  Through  these  minutes  she  had  been  able 
to  distinguish  what  she  supposed  was  the  baby's 
canoe;  but  now  she  lost  it.  She  rowed  on  at  random; 
then  she  began  to  call.  Nothing  answered.  The 
lightning  grew  brighter,  and  she  blessed  the  flashes; 
they  would  show  her,  perhaps,  what  she  was  in  search 
of;  with  every  gleam  she  scanned  the  lake  in  a  dif 
ferent  direction.  But  she  saw  nothing.  She  called 
again  :  "  Jacky  !  Jack-y  !"  A  great  bird  flew  by, 
close  over  her  head,  and  startled  her;  its  wings  made 
a  rushing  sound.  "Jack-y!  Jack-y!"  She  rowed 
on,  calling  loudly. 

It  was  now  perfectly  dark.  Presently  an  unusual 
ly  brilliant  gleam  revealed  for  an  instant  a  dark  ob 
ject  on  her  left.  She  rowed  towards  it.  "Jacky, 
speak  to  Aunty  live.  Aunty  Eve  is  close  beside 


JUPITEK   LIGHTS.  283 

you."  She  put  her  whole  heart  into  this  cry;  then 
she  waited,  breathless. 

From  a  distance  came  a  sound,  the  sweetest  which 
Eve  Bruce  had  ever  heard.  "  Ess,"  said  Jack's  brave 
little  voice. 

She  tried  to  row  towards  it.  Before  she  could 
reach  the  spot  a  wind  coming  from  the  south  drove 
her  canoe  back.  "  Jacky,  Jacky,  say  yes  again." 

"Ess,"  said  the  voice,  fainter,  and  farther  away. 

The  wind  was  stronger  now,  and  it  began  to  make 
a  noise  too,  as  it  crossed  the  lake. 

"  Jacky,  Jacky,  you  must  answer  me." 

"  Ess." 

.  A  crashing  peal  of  thunder  broke  over  their  heads; 
when  it  had  ceased,  she  could  hear  the  poor  little  lad 
crying.  His  boat  must  have  drifted,  for  his  voice 
came  from  a  new  direction. 

"  I  am  coming  directly  to  you,  Jacky,"  she  called, 
altering  her  course  rapidly. 

The  thunder  began  again,  and  filled  her  ears. 
When  it  ceased,  all  was  still. 

"Jacky!  Jacky!" 

No  answer. 

And  now  there  came  another  cry  :  "  Eve,  where 
are  you  ?  Wait  for  me."  It  was  Cicely. 

"  This  way,"  called  Eve. 

She  never  dreamed  that  Cicely  was  alone;  she  sup 
posed  that  the  Irishman  had  taken  heart  of  grace 
and  ventured  back.  But  presently  a  canoe  touched 
hers,  and  there  in  the  night  she  saw  Cicely  all  alone, 
like  a  phantom.  "  Baby  ?"  demanded  Cicely,  hold 
ing  the  edge  of  Eve's  boat. 

"  I  heard  him  only  a  moment  ago,"  answered  Eve, 
as  excited  as  herself.  "  Jacky  !  Jacky !" 


284  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

No  reply. 

Then  Cicely's  voice  sounded  forth  clearly  :  "  It's 
mamma,  Jack.  Speak  to  mamma." 

"  Mam-ma  !"  came  the  answer.  A  distant  sound, 
but  full  of  joy. 

Eve  put  her  paddle  in  the  water  again.  "  Wait," 
said  Cicely.  And  she  stepped  from  her  canoe  into 
Eve's,  performing  the  difficult  feat  without  hesita 
tion  or  tremor.  The  other  canoe  was  abandoned, 
and  Eve  was  off  with  a  strong  stroke. 

"  Call,"  she  said. 

Cicely  called,  and  Jack  answered. 

"  Call  again." 

"  His  poor  little  throat  will  be  so  tired  ."''  said 
Cicely,  her  own  voice  trembling. 

"  We  must,'''  said  Eve. 

"  Jack-y  !" 

"  Ess."' 

On  they  went,  never  reaching  him,  though  he  an 
swered  four  times;  for,  in  spite  of  the  intensity  of 
Eve's  exertion,  the  sound  constantly  changed  its  di 
rection.  Cicely  called  to  her  child,  she  sang  to  him; 
she  even  laughed.  "  How  slow  you  are  !"  she  said 
to  Eve.  "  Don't  stop." 

"  I  stopped  to  listen." 

But  presently  they  were  both  listening  in  vain. 
Jack's  voice  had  ceased. 

The  wind  now  blew  not  in  gusts,  but  steadily. 
Eve  still  rowed  with  all  her  strength,  in  reality  at 
random,  though ;  with  each  new  flash  of  lightning 
she  took  a  new  direction,  so  that  her  course  resem 
bled  the  spokes  of  a  wheel. 

"He  has  of  course  fallen  asleep,"  said  Cicely. 
"He  is  always  so  good  about  going  to  bed." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  285 

Their  canoe  now  rose  find  fell  perceptibly ;  the 
tranquillity  of  the  lake  was  broken,  it  was  no  longer 
gray  glass,  nor  a  black  floor;  iirst  there  was  a  swell; 
then  little  waves  showed  themselves;  by-ahd-by 
these  waves  had  crests.  Eve,  kneeling  on  the  bot 
tom,  exerted  all  her  intelligence  to  keep  the  boat  in 
the  right  position. 

"These  canoes  never  tip  over  when  left  alone;  it's 
only  when  people  try  to  guide  them,"  said  Cicely, 
confidently.  "Now  Jack's  just  like  no  one;  he's  so 
very  light,  you  know." 

Words  were  becoming  difficult,  their  canoe  rose 
on  the  crest  of  one  wave,  then  plunged  down  into 
the  hollow  behind  it;  then  rose  on  the  next.  A  light 
flared  out  on  their  left;  it  was  low  down,  seeming 
below  their  own  level. 

"  They  have  kindled — a  fire — on  the  beach,"  called 
Eve.  She  was  obliged  to  call  now,  though  Cicely 
was  so  near. 

"Yes.     Porley,"  Cicely  answered. 

They  were  not  so  far  out  as  they  had  thought; 
the  light  of  the  fire  showed  that.  Perhaps  they  had 
been  going  round  in  a  circle. 

Eve  was  now  letting  the  boat  drift;  Jack's  canoe 
was  drifting,  the  same  currents  and  wind  might  take 
theirs  in  the  same  direction;  it  was  not  very  long 
since  they  had  heard  his  last  cry,  he  could  not  be 
far  away.  The  lightning  had  begun  to  come  in 
great  sheets  of  white  light;  these  were  blinding, 
but  if  one  could  bear  to  look,  they  lit  up  the  surface 
of  the  water  for  an  instant  with  extraordinary  dis 
tinctness.  Cicely,  from  her  babyhood  so  impression 
able  to  lightning,  let  its  glare  sweep  over  her  un 
moved;  but  her  beautiful  eyes  were  near-sighted, 


2 SO  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

she  could  not  see  far.  Eve,  on  the  contrary,  had 
strong  eyesight,  and  after  what  seemed  a  long  time 
(it  was  tive  minutes),  she  distinguished  a  dark,  low 
outline  very  near  at  hand;  she  sent  the  boat  in  that 
direction  with  all  her  might. 

"It's  Jack  !"  she  called  to  Cicely. 

Cicely,  holding  on  to  the  sides  of  the  canoe,  kept 
her  head  turned,  peering  forward  with  her  unseeing 
eyes  into  the  alternating  darkness  and  dazzling  glare. 
The  flashes  were  so  near  sometimes  that  it  seemed 
as  if  they  would  sweep  across  them,  touch  them, 
and  shrivel  them  up. 

Now  they  approached  the  other  boat;  they  came 
up  to  it  on  the  crest  of  a  wave.  Cicely  took  hold  of 
its  edge,  and  the  two  boats  went  down  into  the  hol 
low  behind  together. 

"Sit — in  the  centre — as  much — as  you  can,"  Eve 
shouted.  Then,  being  the  taller,  she  rose,  and  in  the 
next  flash  looked  within.  There  lay  Jack  in  the  bot 
tom,  probably  unconscious,  a  still  little  figure  with  a 
white  face. 

"  He's  there,"  she  called,  triumphantly.  And  then 
they  went  up  on  the  next  wave  together,  and  down 
again. 

"Slip  —  your  hand  —  along  —  to  the  end,"  Eve 
called. 

Cicely  obeyed. 

The  second  canoe,  which  all  her  strength  had 
scarcely  been  able  to  hold  alongside,  now  accom 
panied  them  more  easily,  towed  by  its  stern.  If  it 
could  have  followed  them  instead  of  accompanying 
them,  that  would  have  been  easier  still;  but  Cicely's 
seat  was  at  the  bow,  and  Eve  did  not  dare  to  risk  a 
change  of  places;  with  the  boat  in  tow,  she  paddled 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  287 

towards  the  shore  as  well  as  she  could,  guided  by 
the  fire,  which  was  large  and  bright,  poor  Porley, 
owing  to  whose  carelessness  in  the  second  place  the 
accident  had  occurred  (Eve's  in  the  first  place),  ex 
pending  in  the  collecting  of  dry  fuel  all  the  energy 
of  her  repentance  and  her  grief.  They  were  not 
very  far  out,  but  progress  was  difficult;  Eve  was 
not  an  expei't;  she  did  not  know  how  to  allow  for 
the  opposition,  the  dead  weight,  of  the  second  canoe 
attached  to  the  bow  of  her  own  ;  every  now  and 
then,  owing  to  her  lack  of  skill,  the  wind  would 
strike  it,  and  drive  it  from  her  so  strongly  that  it 
seemed  as  if  the  connecting  link,  Cicely's  little  arm, 
would  be  drawn  from  its  socket.  The  red  glow  of 
the  fire  looked  human  and  home-like  to  these  wan 
derers, — should  they  ever  reach  it?  The  waves  grew 
more  formidable  as  they  approached  the  beach, — they 
were  like  breakers;  Eve  did  her  best,  yet  their  prog 
ress  seemed  snail-like.  At  length,  when  they  were 
so  far  in  that  she  could  distinguish  the  figures  of 

Cj  O 

Porley  and  the  Irishman  outlined  against  the  fire, 
there  came  a  breaker  which  struck  the  second  canoe 
full  on  its  side,  filling  it  with  water.  Cicely  gave 
a  wild  shriek  of  rage  as  it  was  forced  from  her 
grasp.  At  the  same  instant  the  aunt,  leaving  the 
paddle  behind  her,  sprang  into  the  sinking  craft, 
and,  seizing  the  child,  went  down  with  him  into  the 
dark  lake. 

She  came  up  again,  grasping  the  side  of  the  boat; 
with  one  arm  she  lifted  the  boy,  and  gave  him  to  his 
mother,  an  enormous  effort,  as  his  little  body  was 
rigid  and  heavy — like  death. 

And  then  they  got  ashore,  they  hardly  knew  how, 
though  it  took  a  long  time,  Eve  clinging  to  the  stern 


288  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

and  Cicely  paddling,  her  child  at  her  feet;  the  Irish 
man  came  to  their  assistance  as  soon  as  he  could,  the 
wind  drove  them  towards  the  beach;  Porley  helped 
when  it  came  to  the  landing.  In  reality  they  were 
blown  ashore. 

Jack  was  restored.  As  Eve  ceased  her  rubbing — 
she  had  worked  over  him  for  twenty  minutes — and 
gave  him  alive  and  warm  again  to  his  mother's  arms, 
Cicely  kissed  her  cheek.  "Bend  down  your  head, 
Eve;  I  want  to  tell  you  that  I  forgive  you  every 
thing.  There  is  nothing  the  matter  with  me  now;  I 
understand  and  know — all;  yet  I  forgive  you, — be 
cause  you  have  saved  my  child." 


XXIX. 

PRISCILLA  MILE,  close-reefed  as  to  her  skirts,  and 
walking  solidly,  reached  the  shipwrecked  party  soon 
after  nine  o'clock;  as  she  came  by  the  beach,  the 
brilliant  light  of  Porley's  fire  guided  her,  as  it  had 
guided  Cicely  and  Eve  out  on  the  dark  lake.  Pris- 
cilla  asked  no  questions,  her  keen  eyes  took  in  imme 
diately  Eve's  wet  clothes  and  Jack's  no  clothes,  the 
child  being  wrapped  merely  in  a  shawl.  She  said  to 
the  Irishman,  who  was  wet  also:  "  Patrick  Carty,  you 
go  back  to  the  camp,  you  run  just  as  fast  as  you 
can  split;  tell  them  what's  happened,  and  let  them 
send  for  us  as  soon  as  they  can.  'Taint  going  to 
rain  much,  I  guess." 

The  man  hesitated. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  about  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Mile, 
walking  up  to  him  threateningly,  her  beetle  shawl- 
pins  shining  in  the  fire-light. 


JUPITER,   LIGHTS.  289 

The  Irishman,  who  had  been  in  a  confused  state 
ever  since  Cicely  had  forced  his  canoe  into  the  wa 
ter  again  after  he  had  hauled  it  up  on  the  beach, 
and  had  beaten  his  hands  off  fiercely  wdth  the  oar 
when  he  had  tried  to  stop  her  progress — a  little 
creature  like  that  turning  suddenly  so  strong — an 
swered,  hurriedly,  "  It's  goin'  I  am;  ye  can  see  it  yer- 
silf !"  and  was  off  like  a  shot.  '•'Wan  attack  from 
a  fimmale  will  do  !"  was  his  thought. 

The  nurse  then  effected  a  change  of  dress;  with 
the  aid  of  part  of  her  own  clothing  and  part  of 
Cicely's  and  Porley's,  she  got  Eve  and  Jack  into  dry 
garments  of  some  sort,  Jack  being  wrapped  in  a 
flannel  petticoat.  The  wind  had  grown  much  more 
violent,  but  the  strange  atmospheric  conditions  had 
passed  away ;  the  lightning  had  ceased.  It  was 
now  an  ordinary  gale,  the  waves  dashed  over  the 
beach,  and  the  wind  drove  by  with  a  shriek;  but  it 
was  not  cold.  The  four  women  sheltered  themselves 
as  well  as  they  could,  Cicely  holding  Jack  closely; 
she  would  not  let  any  one  else  touch  him. 

A  little  after  two  o'clock  the  crouched  group  heard 
a  sound,  and  Hollis  appeared  in  the  circle  of  light 
shed  by  the  flaring  wind-swept  fire.  lie  bore  a  load 
of  provisions  and  garments  in  baskets,  in  a  sack  sus 
pended  from  his  neck,  in  bags  dangling  from  his 
arms,  as  well  as  in  his  hands  and  pockets  ;  he  had 
even  brought  a  tea-kettle;  it  was  a  wonder  how  he 
had  come  so  far  with  such  a  load,  the  wind  bending 
him  double.  Priscilla  Mile  made  tea  as  methodical 
ly  as  though  the  open  beach,  with  the  roaring  water 
and  the  shrieking  gale,  had  been  a  quiet  room.  Hoi- 
Hs  watched  them  eat  with  an  eagerness  so  intense 
that  unconsciouslv  his  face  made  masticating  move- 

*  O 

19 


290  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ments  in  sympathy.  When  they  had  finished,  a 
start  passed  over  him,  as  if  he  were  awakening,  and, 
making  a  trumpet  of  his  hands,  he  shouted  to  Cice 
ly:  "Must  go  now;  'f  I  don't,  the  old  judge  '11  be 
trying  to  get  here.  Back  —  with  boat  —  soon  as 
ca-  a-an." 

"  I'll  take  your  coat,  if  you  don't  mind,"  said  Mrs. 
Mile,  shrieking  at  him  in  her  turn;  "  then  Miss  Bruce 
can  have  this  shawl."  And  she  tapped  her  chest 
violently  to  show  him  her  meaning.  Hollis  denuded 
himself,  and  started. 

With  the  first  light  of  dawn  he  was  back.  They 
reached  the  camp  about  ten  o'clock  the  next  morn 
ing. 

At  three  in  the  afternoon  Cicely  woke  from  a 
sleep  of  four  hours.  Her  first  movement  was  to  feel 
for  Jack. 

Jack  was  sitting  beside  her,  playing  composedly 
with  four  spools  and  a  little  wooden  horse  on  rollers. 

"  We'd  better  dress  him  now,  hadn't  we  ?"  sug 
gested  Mrs.  Mile,  coming  forward.  She  spoke  in 
her  agreeing  voice;  Mrs.  Mile's  voice  agreed  before 
hand  that  her  patients  should  agree  with  her. 

"  I  will  dress  him,"  said  Cicely,  rising. 

"I  wouldn't,  now,  if  I  were  you,  Mrs.  Morrison; 
you're  not  strong  enough." 

"  Where  is  my  dress?"  asked  Cicely,  looking  about 
her. 

"  You  don't  want  anything,  surely,  but  your  pret 
ty  blue  wrapper  ?"  said  Mrs.  Mile,  taking  it  from  its 
nail. 

"  Bring  me  my  thick  dress  and  my  walking-shoos, 
please." 

They  were  brought. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  291 

Eve  came  in  while  Cicely  was  dressing. 

"Eve,  who  is  this  person?"  Cicely  demanded,  in 
dicating  the  nurse  with  a  sideward  wave  of  her  head. 

"  Oh,  I'm  just  a  lady's  maid — they  thought  you'd 
better  have  one  ;  Porley,  in  that  way,  you  know, 
isn't  good  for  much,"  answered  Mrs.  Mile,  readily. 

"  Whatever  you  are,  I  sh"ll  not  need  your  services 
longer,"  said  Cicely.  "Do  you  think  you  could  go 
to-night?" 

"Certainly,  ma'am;  by  the  evening  boat." 

"There  is  no  evening  boat.  I  must  have  been  ill 
a  long  while, — you  talk  in  such  a  wheedling  manner. 
I  am  well  now,  at  any  rate,  and  you  can  return  to 
Port  aux  Pins  whenever  you  like  ;  no  doubt  you 
have  been  much  missed  there." 

Mrs.  Mile,  giving  Eve  a  significant  look,  went  out. 

The  storm  was  over,  but  the  air  had  turned  much 
colder;  the  windows  of  the  lodge  were  closed.  Eve 
seated  herself  by  the  east  window. 

"  I  have  been  ill,  then  ?"  asked  Cicely. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  have  been  out  of  my  mind?" 

"Yes,"  Eve  answered  again,  in  a  listless  voice. 

"I'm  not  so  any  longer, — you  understand  that?" 

"I  understand,"  Eve  responded. 

Her  cheeks  were  white,  the  lines  of  her  face  and 
figure  had  fallen;  she  looked  lifeless. 

Cicely  stopped  her  work  of  dressing  Jack,  and 
gazed  at  her  sister-in-law  for  a  moment  or  two; 
then  she  came  and  stood  before  her.  "Perhaps  you 
didn't  understand  what  I  said  on  the  beach?  I  told 
you  that  I  remembered  everything,  knew  everything. 
And  that  I  forgave  you  because  you  had  saved  baby; 
you  jumped  into  the  lake  and  saved  him."  She 


292  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

paused  a  moment;  "I  forgive  you — yes;  but  never 
let  us  speak  of  it  again — never  on  this  earth; — do 
you  hear?"  And,  putting  her  hands  on  Eve's  shoul 
ders,  she  pressed  the  palms  down  violently,  as  em 
phasis. 

Then  going  back  to  Jack,  she  resumed  the  dress 
ing.  "It's  the  strangest  thing  in  the  world  about  a 
child.  When  it  comes,  you  think  you  don't  care 
about  it — little  red  thing  ! — that  you  love  your  hus 
band  a  million  times  more,  as  of  course  in  many 
ways  you  do.  But  a  new  feeling  comes  too,  a  feel 
ing  that's  like  no  other;  it  takes  possession  of  you 
whether  you  want  it  to  or  not;  it's  stronger  than 
anything  else — than  life  or  death.  You  would  let 
yourself  be  cut  to  pieces,  burned  alive,  for  your 
child.  Something  came  burning  right  through  me 
when  I  knew  that  Jacky  was  in  danger.  —  Xever 
mind,  Jacky,  play  away;  mamma's  not  frightened 
now,  and  Jacky's  her  own  brave  boy. — It  made  ev 
erything  clear,  and  I  came  to  myself  instantly.  I 
shall  never  lose  my  senses  again;  though  I  might 
Avant  to,  I'm  so  miserable." 

"And  I,  who  think  you  fortunate  !"  said  P^ve. 

Cicely  turned  her  head  and  looked  at  her  with 
parted  lips. 

"  Ferdie  loved  you — 

"  Oh,  he  cared  for  others  too,"  said  Cicely,  bring 
ing  her  little  teeth  together.  "I  know  more  than 
you  think; — than  Paul  thinks."  She  went  on  hur 
riedly  with  her  task. 

A  quiver  had  passed  over  Eve  at  the  name.  "You 
loved  him,  and  he  was  your  husband.  But  Paul  can 
never  take  me  for  his  wife  ;  you  forgive,  but  he 
couldn't." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  293 

"You  love  Paul,  then;  is  that  it?"  said  Cicely, 
turning  round  again.  "  Now  I  remember — that  day 
when  I  saw  you  in  the  woods.  Why,  Eve,  he  did 
forgive  you,  he  had  you  in  his  arms." 

"lie  did  not  know.     He  does  not  know  now." 

"  You  haven't  told  him  ?" 

"  I  couldn't." 

Cicely  paused,  consideringly.  "  No,  you  could 
not,"  she  said,  with  conviction.  "  And  he  can  never 
marry  you."  She  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed 
and  folded  her  hands. 

"  Not  when  he  knows,"  Eve  answered. 

"  And  were  you  going  to  deceive  him,  not  let  him 
know?" 

"That  is  what  I  tried  to  do,"  said  Eve,  sombrely. 
"  You  were  the  only  person  who  knew  (you  knew 
because  I  had  told  you),  and  you  were  out  of  your 
mind;  his  love  came  to  me, — I  took  it." 

"  Especially  as  you  loved  him  !" 

"  Yes,  I  loved  him." 

"I'm  glad  you  do,"  said  Cicely;  "now  you  won't 
be  so  lofty.  Now  you  understand,  perhaps,  how  I 
felt  about  Ferdie,  and  why  I  didn't  mind,  no  matter 
what  he  did  ?" 

"  Yes,  now  I  understand." 

"  Go  on  ;  what  made  you  change  your  mind  ? 
Was  it  because  I  had  got  back  my  senses,  and  you 
were  afraid  I  should  tell?"  She  spoke  with  a  jeer 
in  her  voice. 

"No;  it  changed  of  itself  when  I  saw  baby  out 
in  that  boat  alone — my  brother's  poor  little  child. 
I  said  then, '  O,  let  me  save  him,  and  I'll  give  up 
everything !' " 

"  And  supposing  that  nothing  had  happened  to 


294  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

Jack,  and  that  I  had  not  got  back  my  senses,  how 
could  you  even  then  have  married  Paul,  Eve  Bruce  ? 
. — let  him  take  as  his  wife  a  woman  who  did  what 
you  did  ?" 

"  What  I  did  was  not  wrong,"  said  Eve,  rising,  a 
spot  of  red  in  each  cheek.  She  looked  down  upon 
little  Cicely.  "  It  was  not  wrong,"  she  repeated, 
firmly. 

"  '  Blood  for  blood  '?"  quoted  Cicely,  with  another 
jeer. 

"Yes,  that  is  what  Paul  said,"  Eve  answered. 
And  she  sank  down  again,  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"You  say  you  have  given  him  up; — are  you  going 
to  tell  him  the  reason  why  you  do  it?"  pursued 
Cicely,  with  curiosity. 

"How  can  I?" 

"Well,  it  would  keep  him  from  pursuing  you,; — 
if  he  does  pursue." 

"I  don't  want  him  to  stop  !" 

"Oh!  you're  not  in  earnest,  then;  you  are  going 
to  marry  him,  after  all?  See  here,  Eve,  I'll  be  good; 
I'll  never  tell  him,  I'll  promise." 

"No,"  said  Eve,  letting  her  hands  fall;  "I  gave 
him  up  when  I  said,  '  If  I  can  only  save  baby  !' " 
Her  face  had  grown  white  again,  her  voice  dull. 

"What  are  you  afraid  of?  Hell?  At  least  you 
would  have  had  Paul  here,  /should  care  more  for 
that  than  for  anything  else." 

"  We're  alike  !"  said  Eve. 

"If  we  are,  do  it,  then;  I  should.  It's  a  muddle, 
but  that  is  the  best  way  out  of  it." 

"You  don't  understand,"  Eve  replied.  "What 
I'm  afraid  of  is  Paul  himself." 

"  When  he  finds  out  ?" 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  295 

"  Yes." 

"  I  told  you  I  wouldn't  tell." 

"  Oh,  any  time;  after  death — in  the  next  world." 

"  You  believe  in  the  next  world,  then  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  I  should  take  all  the  happiness  I  could  get 
in  this,"  remarked  Cicely. 

"  I  care  for  it  more  than  you  do — more  than  you 
do?"  said  Eve,  passionately. 

Cicely  gave  a  laugh  of  pure  incredulity. 

"  But  I  cannot  face  it — his  finding  out,"  Eve  con 
cluded. 

Cicely  gazed  at  her.  "How  handsome  you  are 
to-day!  What  are  men,  after  all?  Poor  things 
compared  to  us.  What  wouldn't  we  do  for  them 
when  we  love  them? — what  don't  we  do?  And  what 
do  they  ever  do  for  us  in  comparison  ?  Paul — he 
ought  to  be  at  your  feet  for  such  a  love  as  you  have 
given  him;  instead  of  that,  we  both  know  that  he 
mould  mind;  that  he  couldn't  rise  above  it,  couldn't 
forget.  See  here "  —  she  ran  to  Eve,  and  put  her 
arms  round  her,  excitedly  —  "  supposing  that  he  is 
better  than  we  think, — supposing  that  I  should  go 
to  him  and  tell  him  the  whole,  and  that  he  should 
come  here  and  say:  '  What  difference  does  that  make, 
Eve?  We  will  be  married  to-morrow.'"  And  she 
looked  up  at  Eve,  her  dark  little  face  flushed  for  the 
moment  with  unselfish  hopefulness. 

"  No,"  answered  Eve,  slowly,  "  he  couldn't,  he 
loved  Ferdie  so!"  She  raised  her  right  hand  and 
looked  at  it.  "  He  would  see  me  holding  it — taking 
aim — " 

Cicely  drew  away,  she  struck  Eve's  hand  down 
with  all  her  force.  Then  she  ran  sobbing  to  the 


296  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

bed,  where  Jack,  half  dressed,  had  fallen  asleep  again, 
and  threw  herself  down  beside  him.  "  Oh,  Ferdie ! 
Ferdie !"  she  sobbed,  in  a  passion  of  grief. 

Eve  did  not  move. 

After  a  while  Cicely  dried  her  eyes  and  rose;  she 
woke  Jack,  and  finished  dressing  him  in  silence; 
kneeling  down,  she  began  to  put  on  his  shoes. 

The  child  rolled  his  little  wooden  horse  over  her 
shoulder.  Then  he  called:  "Old  Eve!  old  Eve! 
Pum  here,  an'  det  down;  I  want  to  roll  do  hortie  on 
you,  too." 

Eve  obeyed;  she  took  up  the  other  little  shoe. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Cicely,  her  voice  still  choked  with 
sobs,  "  we  can't  help  it,  Eve — as  long  as  we've  got 
him  between  us;  he's  a  tie.  We  shall  have  to  make 
the  best  of  each  other,  I  suppose." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  to  Romney  ?"  Eve  asked,  in 
a  low  tone. 

"How  can  you  want  to  go  there?"  demanded 
Cicely,  her  eyes  beginning  to  flash  again. 

"I  know. — But  I  don't  want  to  leave  Jack  and 
you.  If  you  would  take  me — 

They  said  but  a  few  words  more.  Yet  it  was  all 
arranged;  they  would  go  to  Romney;  Paul  was  to 
know  nothing  of  it. 


XXX. 

CICELY  thought  of  everything,  she  ordered  every 
thing;  she  and  Eve  had  changed  places.  It  was  de 
cided  that  they  should  take  a  North  Shore  steamer; 
this  would  carry  them  eastward  to  the  Sault  by  a 
route  far  away  from  Port  aux  Pins.  Mrs.  Mile  was 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  297 

to  be  sent  back  to  that  flourishing  town  on  the  day 
of  their  own  departure,  but  preceding  it  in  time  by 
several  hours;  she  would  carry  no  tidings  because 
she  would  know  none.  Hollis  was  to  be  taken  into 
their  confidence  in  a  measure — he  was  to  be  informed 
that  this  change  of  plan  was  a  necessity,  and  that 
Paul  must  not  hear  of  it. 

"  He  will  do  what  we  tell  him  to  do,"  Cicely  re 
marked. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Eve,  assentingly. 

The  first  North  Shore  steamer  would  not  pass  be 
fore  the  morning  of  the  third  day.  For  twenty-four 
hours  Eve  remained  inert,  she  did  nothing.  The 
judge,  troubled,  but  inexpressibly  excited  at  the 
prospect  of  never  seeing  Port  aux  Pins  again  ;  of 
getting  away  from  these  cold  woods,  and  in  a  few 
days  from  these  horrible  great  lakes;  of  soon  breath 
ing  once  more  the  air  of  his  dear,  warm,  low-lying 
country,  with  its  old  plantations,  its  old  towns,  its 
old  houses  and  old  friends,  hurried  about  wildly, 
trotting  hither  and  thither  on  many  errands,  but 
without  accomplishing  much.  On  the  second  day 
Eve's  mood  changed,  and  a  feverish  activity  took 
possession  of  her  also;  she  was  up  and  out  at  dawn, 
she  did  everything  she  could  think  of,  she  worked 
incessantly.  By  noon  there  was  nothing  more  left 
to  do,  and  there  still  remained  the  whole  half  of  the 
day,  and  the  night. 

"  I  think  I'll  go  out  on  the  lake,"  she  said  to 
Cicely. 

"  Yes,  row  hard;  tire  yourself,"  Cicely  answered. 

She  spoke  coldly,  though  the  advice  she  offered 
was  good.  She  was  trying  hard  to  be  kind  to  Eve 
during  these  difficult  last  hours  when  Paul  was  still 


298  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

so  near;  but  though  she  did  her  best,  she  often  failed. 
"  You'd  better  not  come  back  until  nearly  dark," 
she  added;  "we've  got  to  be  together  through  the 
long  journey,  you  know." 

"  Very  well,"  Eve  replied. 

It  was  a  brilliant  afternoon,  the  air  was  clear;  al 
ready  the  woods  had  an  autumn  look.  Eve  paddled 
eastward  for  some  time;  then  she  came  back  and  went 
out  to  Jupiter  Light.  Beaching  her  canoe,  she  strolled 
to  and  fro  for  a  while;  then  she  sat  down.  The  water 
came  up  arid  laved  the  reef  with  a  soft,  regular  sound, 
the  Light  loomed  above  her;  presently  a  man  came 
out  of  the  door  and  locked  it  behind  him. 

"  Good-afternoon,  mum,"  he  said,  pausing  on  his 
way  to  his  boat.  "  From  the  camp  down  below, 
ain't  yer  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I'm  going  the  other  way  myself.  Want 
to  be  light-keeper  for  an  hour  or  two  ?"  This  jocu 
larly. 

It  was  the  man  who  had  come  down  with  a  lan 
tern  and  preceded  her  and  Paul  up  the  stairs  to  the 
little  room  at  the  top. 

"There's  some  one  else  above,  isn't  there?"  she 
asked. 

"  No,  mum  ;  all  three  of  us  off  ter-day.  But  me 
and  John  Rail  '11  be  back  afore  dark;  you  won't  tell 
on  us,  I  guess?"  He  gave  a  toothless  smile  and 
pushed  off,  nodding  slightly  in  farewell  as  the  dis 
tance  between  them  increased.  He  went  eastward 
round  the  point ;  his  boat  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Eve  sat  gazing  at  the  Light;  she  recalled  the  ex 
act  tones  of  Paul's  voice  as  he  said,  "  Dori't  you  want 
to  go  up?"  Then  they  had  climbed  up,  and  down 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  299 

again;  and  how  sweet  and  strange  and  exciting  it  was! 
Then  lie  had  rowed  the  canoe  home;  how  delightful 
it  had  been  to  sit  there  and  feel  the  boat  dart  forward 
under  his  strong  strokes  in  the  darkness  ! — for  night 
had  come  on  while  they  lingered  on  the  reef.  Then 
she  remembered  her  anger  when  he  said,  as  he  was 
helping  her  out,  "  I  saw  how  much  you  wanted  to  go!" 
It  seemed  so  strange  that  she  should  ever  have  been 
angry  with  him;  she  could  never  be  so  again,  no 
matter  what  he  might  do.  She  tried  to  think  of  the 
things  he  might  do;  for  instance,  he  might  marry 
(she  had  almost  said  "  marry  again  ").  "  I  ought  to 
wish  that  he  might  find  some  one —  But  she  could 
go  no  further,  that  was  the  end  of  that  line  of 
thought;  she  could  not  wish  anything  of  the  kind. 
She  pressed  her  hands  together  in  bitter,  hot  rebel 
lion.  But  even  her  rebellion  was  without  hope.  She 
had  been  sitting  with  her  feet  crossed  before  her; 
she  drew  up  her  knees,  put  her  arms  upon  them,  and 
her  head  on  her  arms.  She  sat  thus  a  long  time. 

A  voice  said,  "  Eve  !" 

With  a  start  she  raised  her  head.  Paul  stood  there 
beside  her. 

"  You  did  not  expect  to  see  me.  But  I  had  word. 
Hollis  got  one  of  the  men  off  secretly  as  soon  as  he 
could;  he  was  ashamed  to  see  me  treated  so." 

"No,"  said  Eve;  "he  wanted  to  give  me  a  pleas 
ure."  Nothing  could  have  been  more  dreary  than 
her  tone,  more  desperate  than  her  eyes,  as  she  looked 
at  him. 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  come  here?"  she  went  on. 

"I  didn't  believe  it,  Eve;  I  thought  it  was  all 
gammon." 

"No;  it's  true." 


300  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

"  That  you  were  going  to  leave  me  ? — Going  off 
without  letting  me  know?" 

"  Yes." 

"Who  has  been  talking  to  you?  Cicely — now 
that  she  is  herself  again?  She's  a  murderous  little 
creature." 

"  I  talked  to  her,  I  asked  her  to  take  me  with  her." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  said  Paul.  He 
bent  and  took  her  hands,  and  drew  her  to  her 
feet.  "  Now  I  can  look  at  you. — Tell  me  what  you 
mean." 

"  Baby  came  near  being  drowned.  And  it  was 
my  fault.  That  brought  me  to  my  senses." 

"  It  took  you  out  of  them  !" 

"  I  saw  then  that  I  had  been  thinking  only  of  my 
self,  my  own  happiness." 

"  Oh,  it  would  have  been  some  happiness,  would 
it?"  said  Paul,  with  a  touch  of  sarcasm.  He  took 
her  in  his  arms. 

"  Have  you  the  least  doubt  about  )ny  love  for 
you?"  Eve  asked. 

He  looked  deep  into  her  eyes,  so  near  his  own. 
"  No,  I  haven't."  And  he  rested  his  lips  on  hers. 

She  did  not  resist,  she  returned  his  kiss.  Then  she 
left  him.  "  It's  like  death  to  me,  but  I  must,  I  shall 
never  marry  you."  She  went  towards  her  canoe. 

Paul  gave  a  laugh.  "  That's  a  nice  way  to  talk 
when  I've  been  slaving  over  the  house,  and  got  all 
sorts  of  suffocating  things  you'll  like."  He  came 
and  took  her  hands  off  the  boat's  edge.  "  Why, 
Eve,"  he  said,  with  sudden  passion,  "  a  week  from 
to-day  we  shall  be  living  there  together." 

"  Never  together." 

"Why?"  " 


JUPITER  LIGHTS.  301 

"I  can't  tell  you,  because  it's  against  myself. — I 
haven't  the  strength  to  tell  you." 

"  Because  it  will  make  me  think  less  of  you  ?  Not 
so  much  so  as  your  trying  to  slip  away  from  me 
unawares." 

"  You  think  it  wouldn't.     But  it  would." 

"  Try  me  !" 

She  released  herself  from  the  grasp  of  his  hands. 
"  Oh,  if  the  cases  had  been  reversed,  how  little  I 
should  have  minded  !  No  matter  what  you  had 
done,  you  would  have  been  the  same  to  me — God 
knows  you  would  !  In  life,  in  death,  before  any 
thing  and  everything,  I  should  have  adored  you 
always,  you  would  always  have  come  first." 

"  So  it  is  with  me,"  said  Paul. 

"  No,  it  is  not.  And  it's  for  that  reason  I  am 
leaving  you." 

Paul  made  no  more  use  of  words.  What  she  had 
said  had  left  no  impression  upon  him — no  impression 
of  importance.  He  had  never  been  so  much  in  love 
with  IKT  as  at  this  moment. 

"Don't  you  see  how  I  am  suffering? — I  cannot 
bear  it.  Oh,  leave  me  !  let  me  go  !  Another  min 
ute  and  I  shall  not  have  the  strength. — Don't  kiss 
me  again.  Listen  !  I  shot  Ferdie,  your  brother. 
I— I !" 

Paul's  arms  dropped.  "Ferdie?  Poor  Ferdie?" 
The  tears  rushed  to  his  eyes.  "  Why,  some  negroes 
did  it." 

"  There  were  no  negroes.     It  was  I." 

He  stood  there  as  if  petrified. 

With  desperate  courage,  she  launched  her  canoe. 
"  You  see  now  that  I  had  to  go.  You  could  not 
marry  a  woman  who —  Not  even  if  she  did  it  to 


302  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

save —  She  waited  an  instant,  looking  at  him. 
lie  did  not  speak.  She  pushed  off,  lingering  a  mo 
ment  longer.  "  Forgive  me  for  trying  to  deceive 
you  those  few  days,"  she  said.  Then,  with  quick 
strokes,  she  sent  the  boat  westward.  After  a  while, 
she  changed  her  position,  and,  taking  the  other  pad 
dle,  she  began  to  row,  so  that  she  could  look  back 
the  longer.  His  figure  remained  motionless  for  many 
minutes  ;  then  he  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  his  canoe. 
Thus  she  left  him,  alone  under  Jupiter  Light. 


XXXI. 

WHEN  Eve  reached  the  camp,  after  her  parting 
with  Paul,  Cicely  was  waiting  for  her  on  the  beach, 
alone  ;  apparently  she  had  sent  every  one  away. 
"  Well  ?"  she  said,  as  the  canoe  grated  on  the  sand. 

"  I  told  him,"  Eve  answered. 

"  Everything  ?" 

"Everything." 

"  And  he  did  not—?" 

"  No,  he  did  not," 

For  an  instant  Cicely's  face  expressed  keen  sym 
pathy.  Then  her  expression  changed.  "  You  did 
it,  you  know.  You'll  have  to  pay  for  it  !" 

"  Will  you  help  me  to  get  away  ?"  Eve  asked. — "  I 
cannot  see  him  again." 

"And  do  you  imagine  that  by  any  chance  he 
wishes  to  see  you?"  demanded  Cicely,  sarcastically. 

"But  lie  will  have  to  come  back  here — he  must  ; 
let  me  go  away  before  he  comes.  We  were  leaving 
to-morrow  in  any  case  ;  help  me  off  now,"  Eve 
pleaded. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  303 

Cicely  surveyed  her  with  pitiless  eyes  ;  the  once 
strong  Eve  now  looked  at  her  imploringly,  her  face 
despairing,  her  voice  broken.  Having  had  her  satis 
faction,  the  vindictive  little  creature  turned,  and,  go 
ing  back  to  the  lodge,  began  to  issue  orders  with 
imperative  haste,  as  though  she  had  but  one  wish  in 
the  world,  namely,  to  help  Eve  ;  Mrs.  Mile  found 
herself  working  as  she  had  never  worked  before  ; 
the  Irishmen  tumbled  over  each  other  ;  Porley  and 
the  cook  constantly  gallopaded — no  other  word 
could  describe  their  gait.  The  judge  worked  fierce 
ly  ;  he  helped  in  launching  the  canoes  until  the 
blood  rushed  to  his  head  ;  he  ran  after  the  Irish 
men  ;  he  carried  Jack,  he  scolded  Porley.  And 
then,  during  one  of  these  journeys,  his  strength 
failed  so  suddenly  that  he  was  obliged  to  sit  down  ; 
as  there  was  no  bench  near,  he  sat  down  on  the 
ground. 

Soon  afterwards  Mrs.  Mile  came  by. 

"  Dear  me  !  Do  let  me  assist  you,"  she  said 
sweetly. 

"  I  am  merely  looking  at  the  lake  ;  it  is  charming 
this  morning,"  replied  the  judge,  waving  his  hand. 

"  I  could  assist  you  so  well,"  said  the  nurse,  com 
ing  nearer,  "  knowing,  as  I  do,  the  exact  position  of 
all  the  muscles." 

"Muscles,  madam?  It's  more  than  I  do  !  May 
I  ask  you  to  pass  on  ?" 

One  of  the  Irishmen  next  appeared,  carrying 
Jack's  pillows  and  toys. 

"Can  you  tell  me  where  Mr.  Hollis  is?"  demand 
ed  the  judge,  still  seated. 

"Mr.  Ilollis,  surr?  Yes,  surr.  Think  he's  gone 
fishing,  surr." 


304  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  D — n  him  !  He  takes  a  nice  time  for  it — when 
we're  sweating  here,"  muttered  the  judge,  angrily. 

But  poor  Hollis  was  fishing  only  in  a  figurative 
sense,  and  in  bitter  waters.  He  had  sent  for  Paul — 
yes  ;  but  he  could  not  stay  to  witness  his  return 
with  Eve  ;  (he  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  but  that 
Eve  would  return  with  him).  He  shook  hands  witli 
Paul  upon  his  arrival,  and  made  a  number  of  jokes, 
as  usual.  But  soon  after  the  younger  man's  canoe 
had  started  eastward  in  search  of  Eve,  a  second 
canoe,  with  Hollis  paddling,  stole  quietly  away,  go 
ing  in  the  opposite  direction.  Its  occupant  reached 
Port  aux  Pins,  in  due  time.  He  remained  there  but 
a  few  hours. 

A  month  later  a  letter  came  to  Paul  from  a  small 
town  near  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  "  You 
see,  when  I  got  back  to  Port  aux  Pins,  it  sort  of 
came  over  me  that  I'd  go  west.  People  are  more 
lively  out  here,  and  not  so  crowded.  I've  got  hold 
of  a  capital  thing  in  raisins,  in  southern  California. 
If  that  fails,  there  is  stock-raising,  and  plenty  of 
other  things;  and  the  same  old  auctioneer  line.  I've 
left  a  trifle  in  the  savings-bank  for  Jacky.  Perhaps 
you'll  take  charge  of  it  for  him  ?  You'll  hear  from 
me  again  soon. — C.  HOLLIS." 

But  Paul  never  heard  from  him  ;  from  that  mo 
ment  all  trace  of  him  was  lost.  Ferdie,  if  he  had 
known  Hollis,  would  have  had  a  vision  of  him  mak 
ing  his  way  year  by  year  farther  westward,  always 
attired  in  the  black  coat  and  tall  hat  (which  marked 
his  dignity  as  a  lawyer),  whether  voyaging  in  a 
prairie  schooner,  chopping  wood  at  a  camp,  hunting 
elk,  or  searching  for  ore.  But  Paul  had  no  such 
visions,  he  did  not  see  human  lives  as  tableaux- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  305 

vivants.  lie  was  sincerely  sorry  that  Hollis  bad 
vamosed  in  that  way.  But  he  understood  it  too. 

The  trifle  turned  out  to  be  eight  hundred  dollars. 
It  was  regularly  entered  to  little  Jack's  account,  and 
there  was  a  pass-book  with  his  full  name,  "John 
Frederick  Bruce."  "  Bruce, — that  did  it,"  thought 
Paul  ;  "  he  could  give  it  to  the  child.  Poor  old 
Kit !  it  must  have  been  all  he  had." 

Cicely's  generalship  was  excellent  ;  in  less  than 
half  an  hour  the  three  canoes  were  ready,  and  the 
judge,  Porley  and  Jack,  Eve,  Cicely  herself,  with 
three  of  the  men  to  row,  took  their  places  ;  the 
boats  glided  out  from  the  shore,  turning  towards  the 
west.  Mrs.  Mile  bowed  gravely  to  the  judge,  with 
an  air  of  compunction  ;  she  knew  what  an  impres 
sion  she  had  made  upon  that  poor  old  man  ;  she  was 
afraid  that  she  had  not  done  right !  Mrs.  Mile  was 
left  in  charge  of  the  camp  to  await  the  arrival  of 
Paul  Tennant. 

The  canoes  were  out  all  night.  At  dawn  the  lit 
tle  party  found  refuge  on  one  of  the  North  Shore 
steamers,  and  began  the  long  voyage  down  the  chain 
of  lakes,  stopping  again  at  the  beautiful  city  of 
Cleveland,  thence  by  railway  to  New  York,  and 
from  there  southward  by  sea.  On  the  ninth  morn 
ing  of  their  journey  their  ocean  steamer  turned  her 
bows  towards  the  distant  land,  a  faint  line  on  the 
right  ;  by  noon,  she  was  making  her  way  along  a 
winding  channel,  which  was  indicated  here  and  there 
in  the  water  by  buoys  painted  white,  which  looked 
like  ducks  ;  the  Atlantic  was  very  calm,  its  hue  was 
emerald  green  ;  it  was  so  clear  that  one  could  see 
the  great  jelly-fish  floating  down  below.  The  judge, 
with  his  hands  clasped  on  his  cane's  head,  stood  kmk- 
20 


306  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

ing  eagerly  at  everything.  His  joy  was  deep,  he 
felt  himself  an  exile  returning  home.  And  oh  !  how 
beautiful  home  was  !  To  him,  this  Southern  coast 
was  fair  as  Paradise  ;  he  welcomed  the  dark  hue  of 
the  Southern  trees,  he  welcomed  the  neglected  fields, 
he  even  welcomed  the  broken-down  old  houses  here 
and  there.  For  at  least  they  were  not  staring,  they 
were  not  noisy  ;  to  the  judge,  the  smart  new  houses 
of  Port  aux  Pins — those  with  Mansard  roofs — had 
seemed  to  shout  and  yell.  Three  negro  fishermen, 
passing  in  a  row-boat  with  a  torn  sail,  were  eminent 
ly  worthy  creatures  ;  they  were  not  the  impudent, 
well-dressed  mulattoes  of  the  North,  who  elbowed 
him  off  the  pavements,  who  read  newspapers  on 
steamers  with  the  air  of  men  of  the  world.  When 
the  winding  channel — winding  through  water — came 
to  an  end  at  the  mouth  of  an  inlet,  the  white  sand 
hills  on  each  hand  were  more  beautiful  to  his  eyes 
than  the  peaks  of  the  Alps,  or  the  soft  outline  of 
Italian  mountains.  "  God  bless  my  country  !"  was 
the  old  man's  fervent  thought.  But  his  "country" 
was  limited  ;  it  was  the  territory  which  lies  between 
the  St.  Mary's  River  and  the  Savannah. 

At  the  little  port  within  the  inlet  they  disem 
barked,  and  took  the  small  steamer  of  the  Inside 
Route,  which  was  to  carry  them  through  the  sounds 
to  Romney.  Night  had  come  on,  dark  and  quiet ; 
clouds  covered  the  sky  ;  the  air  was  warm,  for  it 
was  still  summer  here.  The  dusky  shores,  dimly  vis 
ible  on  either  hand,  gave  a  sense  of  protection  af 
ter  the  vastness  of  the  ocean;  the  odors  of  flowers 
reached  them,  and  seemed  sweet  after  its  blank, 
cold  purity.  Cicely,  with  Porley  and  Jack,  was  on 
the  deck  near  the  stern;  the  judge  was  now  with 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  307 

them,  now  at  the  prow,  now  up-stairs,  now  down 
stairs;  he  could  not  be  still.  Eve  sat  by  herself  on 
the  forward  deck,  gazing  through  the  darkness  at 
the  water;  she  could  not  see  it  save  here  and  there 
in  broken  gleams,  where  the  lights  from  the  lower 
cabin  shone  across  it;  she  heard  the  rushing  sound 
made  by  the  great  paddle-wheels  as  they  revolved 
unseen  behind  her,  and  the  fancy  came  to  her  that 
she  should  like  to  be  lashed  to  the  outer  rim  of  one 
of  them,  and  be  carried  up  and  down  through  the 
cool  water.  Towards  ten  o'clock  a  beam  shone  out 
ahead.  "  See  it  ?"  said  the  judge,  excitedly,  coming 
to  show  it  to  her.  "  Jupiter  Light !" 

And  Eve  remembered  that  less  than  a  year  before 
she  had  landed  here  for  the  first  time,  a  woman  im 
perious,  sufficient  to  herself;  a  woman  who  was  sure 
that  she  could  direct  her  own  course;  in  addition,  a 
woman  who  supposed  herself  to  be  unhappy.  How 
like  child's  play  did  this  all  seem  now — her  certain 
ties,  and  her  pride,  and  her  supposed  sorrow!  "If 
I  could  die,  wouldn't  that  be  the  best  thing  for  me, 
as  well  as  for  Paul  ?  A  way  out  of  it  all  ?  The 
first  shock  over,  I  should  be  but  a  memory  to  him; 
I  should  not  be  a  miserable  haunting  presence, 
wretched  myself,  and  making  him  \vretched  too.  I 
wonder — I  wonder — is  it  wrong  to  try  to  die  ?" 

The  stern  Puritan  blood  of  her  father  in  her  an 
swered,  "  One  must  not  give  up  until  one  has  ex 
hausted  every  atom  of  one's  strength  in  the  contest." 

"  But  if  it  is  all  exhausted?  If—  Here  another 
feeling  came  sweeping  over  her.  "  No,  I  cannot  die 
while  he  is  in  the  world;  in  spite  of  my  misery,  I 
want  to  be  here  if  he  is  here.  Perhaps  no  knowl 
edge  of  anything  that  happens  here  penetrates  to 


308  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 

the  next  world;  if  that  is  the  case,  I  don't  want  to 
be  there,  no  matter  how  beautiful  it  may  be.  I 
want  to  stay  where  I  can  hear  of  Paul." 

After  they  had  left  the  boat,  and  Pomp  and  Plato 
were  hoisting  the  trunks  into  one  of  the  wagons, 
Cicely  came  up. 

"Eve,  you  must  stay  with  me  more,  now  that  we 
are  here;  you  mustn't  be  always  off  by  yourself." 

"  I  thought  you  preferred  it." 

"  Yes,  through  the  journey.  But  not  now.  It's 
a  great  deal  worse  for  me  now  than  it  is  for  you; 
you  have  left  Paul  behind,  but  I  am  going  to  see 
Ferdie  in  a  moment  or  two.  I  shall  see  him  every 
where — in  the  road,  at  the  door,  in  our  own  room; 
he  will  stand  and  look  at  me." 

"  Well,  you  will  like  that." 

"No,  for  it  will  be  only  a  mockery;  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  put  my  arms  round  him;  he  won't  kiss 
me." 

"  Cecilia,"  called  the  judge,  his  voice  ringing  out 
happily,  "everything  is  ready  now,  and  Cesh  is 
restive." 

Cicely  gave  one  of  her  sudden  little  laughs.  "  Poor 
grandpa !  he  is  so  frantic  with  joy  that  he  even  says 
'  Cesh,' — though  he  loathes  abbreviations  !" 

Secession,  the  mule,  started  on  his  leisurely  walk 
towards  Romney. 

In  the  same  lighted  doorway  where  Eve  had  been 
received  upon  her  first  arrival,  now  appeared  again 
the  tall  figure  of  Miss  Sabrina.  The  poor  lady  was 
crying. 

"  Oh,  my  darling  Cicely,  what  sorrow  !"  she  said, 
embracing  her  niece  fondly. 

As  they  entered  the  hall:  "  Oh,  my  darling  Cicely, 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  309 

what  a  home  -  coming  for  you!  And  to  think — " 
More  tears. 

As  they  came  into  the  lighted  parlor:  "  Oh,  my 
darling  Cicely —  What!  no  mourning?"  This  last 
in  genuine  surprise. 

Cicely  closed  the  door.  She  stood  in  the  centre 
of  the  room.  "  This  is  not  a  charnel-house,  Sabrina. 
No  one  is  to  speak  to  me  of  graves.  As  to  mourn 
ing,  I  shall  not  wear  an  inch  of  it;  you  may  wear  as 
many  yards  as  you  like — you  always  loved  it;  did 
you  begin  to  mourn  for  Ferdie  before  he  was  dead  ?" 

"Oh,  pa,  she  said  such  terrible  things  to  me — our 
own  Cicely.  I  don't  know  how  to  take  it !"  moaned 
poor  Miss  Sabrina  to  her  father  when  they  were  left 
alone. 

"  Well,  you  are  pretty  black,  Sabrina,"  suggested 
the  judge,  doubtfully.  "Those  tossels  now — " 

"  I  got  them  because  they  were  cheap.  I  hope 
they  look  like  mourning  ?" 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid;  they're  hearse-like  !" 

"  Are  they,  really  ?"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  with  grat 
ification.  "  The  choice  at  the  mainland  store  is  so 
small."  But  presently  the  tears  came  again.  "  Oh, 
pa,- everything  is  so  sad  now.  Do  you  remember 
when  I  used  to  ride  my  little  pony  by  your  side,  and 
you  were  on  your  big  black  horse  ?  How  kind  you 
have  always  been  to  me,  pa;  and  I  have  been  such  a 
disappointment  to  you  !" 

"No,  no,  Breeny;  no,  little  girl,"  said  the  judge. 

They  kissed  each  other,  the  old  man  and  his  gray- 
haired  child.  Their  minds  went  back  to  brighter 
days;  they  understood  each  other's  sorrow. 

At  two  o'clock  Eve  had  not  yet  gone  to  bed.  There 
was  a  tap  at  her  door.  She  spoke.  "Cicely?" 


H10  JUPITER    LIGHTS 

"Yes." 

She  drew  back  the  bolt,  and  Cicely  entered,  car 
rying  a  small  lamp.  "You  haven't  gone  to  bed'.' 
So  much  the  better;  you  are  to  come  with  me." 

"  Where  ?" 

"  To  all  the  places  where  we  went  that  night." 

"I  cannot." 

"  There  is  no  question  of  'cannot;'  I  wish  you  to 
go,  and  you  must,  if  I  say  so." 

Eve  looked  at  her  with  forlorn  eyes.  But  Cicely 
was  inflexible.  She  opened  the  door  ;  Eve  followed 
her. 

"  First,  I  want  to  see  that  Jacky  is  all  right," 
Cicely  said.  She  led  the  way  to  her  own  room. 
Jack  was  asleep,  his  dimpled  arms  thrown  out  on 
the  pillow.  Cicely  bent  over  him  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  looked  at  Eve.  "You  won't  ever  be 
troubled  by  this  sort  of  thing,  will  you  ?  You'll 
never  have  a  child  !"  She  laughed,  and,  taking  the 
lamp,  turned  towards  the  door.  "  This  was  Ferdie's 
dressing-room;  don't  you  see  him  over  there  by  the 
window  ?"  Eve  shrank.  "  Now  he  has  gone.  But 
we  shall  hear  him  following  us  along  the  corridor 
presently,  and  across  the  ballroom.  Then,  in  the 
thicket,  he  will  come  and  look  at  us; — do  you  re 
member  his  eyes,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth, — 
how  they  were  drawn  down  ?"  And  the  corners  of 
her  own  mouth  took  the  same  grimace. 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you,"  said  Eve,  stopping. 

"  You  will  do  what  I  wish  you  to,"  answered 
Cicely; — "  one  generally  does  when  one  has  injured  a 
person  as  you  have  injured  me.  For  I  loved  Ferdie, 
you  know;  I  really  had  the  folly  to  love  him."  (She 
said  this  insolently.)  Turning  to  Eve,  with  the  same 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  311 

insolent  smile,  "  At  last  you  know  what  love  is,  don't 
you  ?"  she  added.  "  Has  it  brought  you  much  hap 
piness  ?" 

Eve  made  no  answer,  she  followed  humbly;  to 
gether  they  went  through  the  labyrinth  of  small 
rooms  at  the  end  of  the  corridor  and  entered  the 
ballroom. 

Its  empty  space  was  dark,  a  glimmering  gray  alone 
marking  the  unshuttered  windows.  The  circle  of 
light  from  their  lamp  made  the  blackness  still 
blacker. 

"  Do  you  remember  when  I  put  on  that  ball-dress 
of  my  grandmother's,  and  came  jumping  along  here  ?" 
said  Cicely.  "  How  strange  it  is  ! — I  think  I  was  in 
tended  to  be  happy." 

After  a  moment  she  went  on:  "Now  we  must  be 
gin  to  listen;  he  will  come  in  behind  us,  we  shall 
hear  his  step.  You  ought  to  hear  it  all  your  life  !" 
she  added. 

They  reached  the  window  at  last;  it  had  seemed 
to  Eve  an  endless  transit.  Cicely  drew  back  the 
bolt,  threw  up  the  sash,  and,  with  the  aid  of  a  chair, 
stepped  out. 

"  Wait  here,"  she  said,  wThen  Eve  had  joined  her 
outside;  "then,  when  I  have  reached  the  thicket, 
draw  the  window  down,  just  as  lie  did;  I  want  to 
hear  the  sound." 

She  went  quickly  towards  the  thicket,  carrying 
her  lamp.  Eve  was  left  alone  on  the  veranda. 

After  a  few  minutes  Eve  tried  to  draw  down  the 
sash.  It  resisted,  and  she  \vas  obliged  to  use  all  her 
strength.  A  shiver  came  over  her  as  she  lifted  her 
arms  to  try  a  second  time,  she  almost  expected  to 
see  a  hand  come  stealing  over  her  shoulder  (or  under 


312  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

it),  and  perform  the  task  for  her;  and  the  hand 
would  be — Ferdie's.  She  hurried  after  Cicely. 

Cicely  came  out  from  the  thicket.  "Now  take 
the  lamp  and  walk  down  the  road  a  little  way;  I 
wish  to  see  the  gleam  moving  over  the  bushes, — 
don't  you  remember  ?" 

Eve  obeyed.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  should 
never  be  free  from  this  island  and  its  terror;  as  if 
she  should  spend  the  rest  of  her  life  here  following 
Cicely,  living  over  again  their  dreadful  flight. 

When  she  came  back,  Cicely  said,  "Now  for  the 
north  point;"  she  led  the  way  along  the  road;  their 
footsteps  made  crunching  sounds  in  the  sand. 

Cicely  said,  "I  was  in  hopes  that  the  moon  would 
come  out  from  behind  those  clouds.  Oh,  I'm  so 
glad  !  there  it  is  !  Now  it  will  light  up  the  very 
spot  where  you  shot  him.  I  will  leave  the  lamp 
here  on  the  sand;  that  will  give  the  yellow  gleam 
that  we  saw  behind  us.  Now  go  into  the  woods. 
Then,  in  a  few  moments,  you  must  come  out  and 
look  about,  just  as  you  did  then,  and  you  must  put 
out  your  hand  and  make  a  motion  of  shooting." 

"  I  will  not,"  said  Eve,  outraged.  "  I  shall  leave 
you  and  go  back." 

Cicely  saw  that  she  had  come  to  the  end  of  her 
power.  She  put  her  arms  round  Eve's  neck,  and 
held  her  closely.  "To  please  me,  Eve;  I  shall  never 
be  content  without  it;  I  want  to  see  how  it  all  was, 
how  you  looked.  Just  this  once,  Eve;  never  again, 
but  just  this  once." 

"  I  thought  you  had  forgiven  me,  Cicely?" 

"I  have,  I  have."  She  kissed  Eve  again.  "Do 
content  me." 

Eve  went  slowly  towards  the  trees.     As  she  dis- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  313 

appeared  within  the  shadow,  Cicely  instantly  con 
cealed  herself  on  the  other  side  of  the  road.  There 
was  a  silence. 

The  moon,  emerging  still  further  from  the  clouds, 
now  silvered  the  forest,  the  path,  and  the  sound 
with  its  clear  light;  there  was  no  boat  drawn  up  at 
the  point's  end;  the  beach  sloped  smoothly  to  the 
water,  unbroken  by  any  dark  outline,  and  the  water 
stretched  smoothly  towards  Singleton  Island,  with 
only  the  track  of  the  moon  across  it. 

Eve  stood  in  the  shadow  under  the  trees.  The 
spell  of  the  place  was  upon  her;  like  a  somnambu 
list,  she  felt  herself  forced  by  some  inward  compel 
ling  power  to  go  through  the  whole  scene.  The 
thought  of  Cicely  had  passed  from  her  mind;  there 
was  but  one  person  there  now — Ferdie ;  in  another 
moment  she  should  see  him;  she  listened;  then  she 
went  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  wood  and  looked 
down  the  road. 

Something  came  rushing  from  the  other  side,  and 
with  quick  force  bore  her  to  the  ground.  Not  Fer 
die,  but  Cicely,  like  a  tigress,  was  upon  her,  her 
hands  at  her  throat.  In  a  strange  suffocated  voice, 
she  cried,  "Do  you  like  it?  Do  you  like  it?  Do 
you  like  to  be  dead  ?" 

And  Eve  did  not  struggle;  she  lay  motionless  in 
Cicely's  grasp — motionless  under  the  weight  of  her 
body  keeping  her  down.  The  thing  did  not  seem 
to  her  at  all  incredible;  suddenly  it  seemed  like  a 
remedy  for  all  her  troubles — if  Cicely's  grasp  should 
tighten.  Passively  she  closed  her  eyes. 

But  Cicely's  grasp  did  not  tighten;  the  fury  that 
had  risen  within  her  had  taken  all  her  strength,  and 
now  she  lay  back  white  and  still.  Eve,  like  a  per- 


314  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

son  in  a  dream,  went  down  to  the  beach  and  dipped 
her  handkerchief  in  the  water;  slowly  she  came  back, 
and  bathed  Cicely's  forehead  and  wrists.  But  still 
Cicely  did  not  stir.  Eve  put  her  hand  on  her  heart. 
It  was  beating  faintly.  She  stooped,  and  lifted 
Cicely  in  her  arms,  holding  her  as  one  holds  a  child, 
with  one  arm  round  her  shoulders  and  the  other 
under  her  knees,  Cicely's  head  lying  against  her 
breast.  Then  she  beeran  her  Ion  a  walk  back. 


XXXII. 

THE  stars  were  fading,  there  was  a  band  of  clear 
light  in  the  east  over  the  sea,  when  Eve  reached  the 
veranda  of  Romney  again;  with  pauses  for  rest,  she 
had  carried  her  sister  all  the  way.  Cicely  was  small 
and  light,  her  weight  was  scarcely  more  than  that 
of  a  child;  still,  owing  to  the  distance,  the  effort  had 
been  great,  and  Eve's  strength  was  exhausted.  She 
put  her  burden  gently  down  on  the  floor  of  the  ve 
randa,  and  stood  leaning  against  one  of  the  wooden 
pillars,  with  her  arms  hanging  by  her  sides  to  rest 
them;  they  were  numb  and  stiff,  almost  paralyzed; 
she  began  to  be  afraid  lest  she  should  not  be  able  to 
raise  them  again;  she  went  to  the  window  to  try. 
The  effort  of  lifting  the  sash  drew  a  groan  of  an 
guish  from  her.  But  Cicely  did  not  hear  it;  she  re 
mained  unconscious.  The  dawn  grew  brighter,  soon 
the  sun  would  appear.  It  was  not  probable  that  at 
this  early  hour  any  one  would  pass  this  uninhabited 
end  of  the  house;  still,  negroes  were  inconsequent; 
Pomp  and  Plato  might  be  seized  with  a  fancy  to 
come;  if  she  could  only  get  Cicely  back  to  her  room 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  315 

unseen,  there  need  be  no  knowledge  of  their  mid 
night  expedition.  She  knelt  down  beside  her,  and 
chafed  her  hands  and  temples;  she  spoke  her  name 
with  insistence  :  "  Cicely  !  Cicely  !" — she  put  tin- 
whole  force  of  her  will  into  the  effort  of  reaching 
the  dormant  consciousness,  wherever  it  was,  and 
compelling  it  to  waken.  "  Cicely  !"  She  looked 
intently  at  Cicely's  closed  eyes. 

Cicely  stirred,  her  dark-fringed  lids  opened;  her 
vague  glance  caught  the  gleam  of  the  sound. 
"  Where  are  we  ?"  she  asked. 

"  We  came  out  for  a  walk,"  Eve  answered.  "  Do 
you  think  you  could  climb  in — I  mean  by  the  win 
dow  ?  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  lift  you." 

"  Of  course  I  can.     Why  shouldn't  I  ?" 

She  did  it  as  lightly  and  easily  as  ever;  she  was 
in  perfect  possession  of  all  her  faculties.  Eve  fol 
lowed  her.  Then  she  drew  down  the  sash  with  the 
same  effort. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  your  arms  ?"  Cicely 
asked.  "  You  move  them  as  though  they  were 
rusty." 

"  I  think  they  are  rust}*." 

They  went  through  the  ballroom,  now  looking 
very  prosaic,  flooded  with  the  light  of  the  rising 
sun.  "  We're  always  tramping  through  this  old 
room,"  said  Cicely. 

When  she  reached  the  door  of  her  own  chamber, 
she  abruptly  drew  Eve  in.  "  Well — are  you  going 
to  leave  me  forever  ?" 

"  Not  unless  you  send  me  away." 

"  Is  it  on  baby's  account  that  you  stay  ?" 

"  Not  more  now  than  at  any  time." 

"You  don't  mind  what  I  did,  then  ?" 


316  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"  You  didn't  do  anything." 

"  That's  brave  of  you,  Eve,  when  you  hate  lies  so. 
You  are  trying  to  make  me  believe  that  nothing 
happened  out  there  in  the  road — that  I  was  just  as 
usual.  But  I  remember  perfectly — I  sprang  at  you; 
if  I  had  been  a  man — my  hands  stronger — you 
wouldn't  be  here  now  !" 

"  Fortunately  you  are  not  a  man,  nor  anything 
like  one,"  Eve  answered,  in  the  tone  of  a  person 
who  makes  a  joke.  She  turned  towards  the  door. 

"Wait,  I  want  to  tell  you,"  said  Cicely,  going 
after  her,  and  turning  her  round  with  her  hands  on 
her  shoulders.  "This  is  it,  Eve;  it  comes  over  me 
with  a  rush  sometimes,  when  I  look  at  you — that 
here  you  are  alive,  and  Ferdie  dead  !  He  Avas  a 
great  deal  more  splendid  than  you  arc,  he  was  so 
handsome  and  so  young  !  And  yet  there  he  is, 
down  in  the  ground;  and  you  walking  about  here  ! 
Nothing  seems  too  bad  for  you  then;  my  feeling  is, 
'Let  her  die  too  !  And  see  how  she  likes  it.' " 

"I  should  like  it  well  enough,  if  somebody  else 
did  it,"  Eve  answered.  "  Death  wouldn't  be  a  pun 
ishment,  Cicely;  it  would  be  a  release." 

Cicely's  grasp  relaxed.  "  Oh,  very  well.  Then 
why  haven't  you  tried  it  ?" 

"Because  Paul  Tennant  is  still  in  the  world  !  I 
am  pusillanimous  enough  to  wish  to  breathe  the 
same  air." 

"You  do  love  him!"  said  Cicely.  She  paused. 
"  Perhaps — after  a  little — 

"No,  I  have  thought  it  all  out;  it  can  never  be. 
If  he  should  come  to  me  this  moment,  and  tell  me 
that  he  loved  me  in  spite  of  everything,  it  wouldn't 
help  me;  for  I  should  know  that  it  could  not  last;  I 


•TTJPITKR    LIGHTS.  317 

should  know  that,  if  I  should  marry  him,  sooner  or 
later  he  would  hate  me;  it  would  be  inevitable. 
Ferdie's  face  would  come  always  between  us." 

"  I  hope  it  may,"  said  Cicely,  savagely.  "  Why 
do  you  keep  on  staying  with  me?  I  don't  wish  you 
to  stay.  Not  in  the  least." 

"I  thought  that  I  could  perhaps  be  of  some  use. 
You  were  so  dear  to  my  brother — " 

"  Much  you  care  for  poor  old  Jack  now  !  Even 
7"  care  more." 

"  Yes,  I  have  changed.    But — Jack  understands." 

"  A  convenient  belief  !" 

"  And  you  have  his  child." 

— "  And  I  am  Paul's  sister  !" 

"Yes;  I  can  sometimes  hear  of  Paul  through 
you." 

Eve's  voice,  as  she  said  this,  was  so  patient  that 
Cicely  was  softened.  She  came  to  Eve  and  kissed 
her.  "I  am  sorry  for  you,  Eve." 

"  Will  you  promise  me  to  go  to  bed  ?"  Eve  an 
swered,  resuming  her  usual  tone,  as  she  turned  tow 
ards  the  door.  "  I  must  go  now,  I  am  tired." 

Cicely  went  with  her.  "  I  am  never  sure  of  my 
self,  Eve,"  she  said,  warningly;  "I  may  say  just  the 
same  things  to  you  to-morrow, — remember  that." 

Once  in  her  own  room,  Eve  did  not  follow  the  ad 
vice  which  she  had  given  to  Cicely;  finding  that 
she  could  not  sleep,  she  dressed  herself  afresh,  and 
sought  the  open  air  again.  It  was  still  early,  no 
one  was  stirring  save  the  servants.  Meeting  Porley, 
she  asked  the  girl  to  bring  her  some  tea  and  a  piece 
of  corn-bread;  after  this  frugal  breakfast,  taken  in 
the  shade  of  the  great  live-oaks,  she  wandered  down 
one  of  the  eastern  roads.  Her  bath  had  brought  no 


318  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

color  to  her  cheeks;  her  eyes  had  the  contracted 
look  which  comes  after  a  night  of  wakefulness; 
though  the  acute  pain  had  ceased,  her  weary  arms 
still  hung  lifelessly  by  her  side,  her  step  was  lan 
guid;  only  her  golden  hair  looked  bright  and  young 
as  the  sun's  rays  shone  across  it. 

She  walked  on  at  random;  after  a  while,  upon 
looking  down  one  of  the  tracks,  bordered  by  the 
glittering  green  bushes,  she  recognized  Miss  Sabri- 
na's  figure,  and,  turning,  followed  it. 

Miss  Sabrina  had  come  out  to  pay  an  early  visit 
to  her  temple  of  memories.  She  heard  Eve's  step, 
and  looked  up.  "  Oh,  is  it  you,  my  dear  ?  It's  St. 
Michael  and  All-Angels;  I  have  only  brought  a  few 
flowers,  I  hope  you  don't  mind  ?"  Her  voice  was 
apologetic. 

"  Do  you  mean  for  my  brother  ?  I  wish  you  had 
brought  more,  then;  I  wish  you  would  always  re 
member  him,"  said  Eve,  going  over  and  sitting 
down  beside  the  mound.  "He  has  the  worst  time 
of  any  of  us,  after  all !" 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  how  can  we  know  ?"  murmured 
Miss  Sabrina,  shocked. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  he  is  in  hell,"  said  Eve. 

Miss  Sabrina  had  no  idea  what  she  meant;  she  re 
turned  to  the  subject  of  her  temple.  "  Cicely  thinks 
I  come  here  too  often, — she  spoke  of  charnel-houses. 
Perhaps  I  do  come  often;  but  it  has  been  a  comfort 
to  me." 

"  Miss  Sabrina,  do  you  believe  in  another  world  ?" 

"My  dear  child,  most  certainly." 

"  And  have  we  the  same  feelings,  the  same  affec 
tions,  there  as  here  ?" 

"  The  good  ones,  I  suppose." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  319 

"  Is  love  one  of  these  ?" 

"  The  best,  isn't  it  ?" 

"  Well,  then,  my  brother  took  his  love  for  Cicely; 
if  she  should  die  to-day,  how  much  would  she  care 
for  him,  when  she  met  him  ?" 

"I  think  that  something  else  would  be  provided 
for  your  brother,  probably,"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  tim 
idly. 

"Another  wife?  Why  not  arrange  that  for  Fer- 
die  Morrison,  and  give  Cicely  to  Jack  ?" 

"  She  loved  Ferdie  the  best.  Aren't  you  inclined 
to  think  that  it  must  be  when  they  both  love  ?"  sug 
gested  the  maiden  lady. 

"  And  when  they  both  love,  should  anything  be 
permitted  to  come  between  them  ?" 

"  Oh,  nothing  !  nothing  !"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  with 
fervor.  "  That  is,  of  course,  when  there  is  no  bar 
rier;  when  it  would  be  no  crime." 

"  What  is  crime  ?"  demanded  Eve,  looking  at  her 
sombrely.  "  I  don't  think  I  know." 

"  Surely  the  catechism  tells  us,  doesn't  it  ?" 

"  What  does  it  tell  ?" 

Miss  Sabrina  murmured  reverently  :  "  Idolatry, 
isn't  it? — and  blasphemy;  desecration  of  the  Lord's 
Day  and  irreverence  to  parents;  murder,  adultery, 
theft;  falsehood  and  covetousness." 

"  And  which  is  the  worst  ?     Murder  ?" 

"  I  suppose  so." 

"  Have  you  ever  spoken  to  a  murderer?" 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  said  Miss  Sabrina.  She  glanced 
with  suffused  eyes  towards  Ferdie's  grave.  "It  is 
such  a  comfort  to  me  to  think  that  though  he  was 
in  effect  murdered,  those  poor  ignorant  nig-roes 
had  probably  no  such  intention;  it  was  not  done 


320  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

deliberately,  by  some  one  who  wished  to  harm 
him." 

"  I  don't  believe  his  murderer  will  be  afraid  to 
face  him  in  the  next  world,"  said  Eve.  She,  too, 
looked  towards  the  mound  ;  she  seemed  to  see  Fer- 
die  lying  down  below,  with  closed  eyes,  but  the 
same  grimacing  lips. 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,  they  would  have  so  little  in  com 
mon  that  they  wouldn't  be  thrown  much  together, 
I  reckon,"  said  Miss  Sabrina,  hopefully;  "I  doubt 
if  they  even  meet." 

"  Your  heaven  is  not  like  the  Declaration  of  Inde 
pendence,  is  it  ?"  said  Eve. 

Miss  Sabrina  did  not  understand.  She  pinched 
her  throat  with  her  thumb  and  forefinger,  and  looked 
vaguely  at  Eve. 

"I  mean  that  all  men  'are  created  equal;'  your 
heaven  has  an  outside  colony  for  negroes,  and  once 
or  twice  a  week  white  angels  go  over  there,  I  sup 
pose,  ring  the  Sunday-school  bell,  and  hold  meetings 
for  their  improvement." 

Miss  Sabrina  colored;  she  took  up  her  basket. 

"Forgive  me  !"  said  Eve,  dropping  her  sarcasms. 
"I  am  unhappy.  That  is  the  reason  I  talk  so." 

"  I  feared  so,  my  dear;  I  feared  so,"  answered  the 
gentle  lady,  melted  at  once. 

Eve  left  her,  and  wandered  across  the  island  to 
the  ocean  beach.  Low  waves  came  rolling  in  and 
broke  upon  the  sand;  no  ship  was  in  sight;  the  blue 
of  the  water  met  the  horizon  line  unbroken.  She 
walked  southward  with  languid  step;  every  now 
and  then  she  would  stop,  then  walk  slowly  on  again. 
After  half  an  hour  a  sound  made  her  turn;  Paul 
Tennant  was  close  upon  her,  not  twenty  feet  dis- 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  321 

tant;  the  wash  of  the  waves  had  prevented  her  from 
hearing  his  approach.  She  stood  still,  involuntarily 
turning  towards  him  as  if  at  bay. 

Paul  came  up.  "  Eve,  I  know  what  I  am  about 
now.  I  didn't  know  out  there  at  Jupiter  Light;  I 
was  dazed;  but  I  soon  understood.  I  went  back  to 
the  camp,  but  you  were  gone.  As  soon  as  I  could 
I  started  after  you.  Here  I  am." 

"  You  understood  ?  What  did  you  understand  ?" 
said  Eve,  her  face  deathly  white. 

"  That  I  loved  you,"  said  Paul,  taking  her  in  his 
arms.  "That  is  enough  for  me;  I  hope  it  is  for 
you." 

"  That  you  love  me  in  spite  of— 

"There  is  no  'in  spite  of;'  what  you  did  was 
noble,  was  extraordinarily  brave.  A  woman  is 
timid;  you  are  timid,  though  you  may  pretend  not 
to  be;  yet  with  your  own  hand — 

Eve  remembered  how  Cicely  had  struck  her  hand 
down.  "  You  will  strike  it  down,  too  !"  she  said, 
incoherently,  bursting  into  tears. 

Paul  soothed  her,  not  by  words,  but  by  his  touch. 
Her  whole  being  responded  ;  she  leaned  her  head 
against  his  breast. 

"  To  save  Cicely  you  crushed  your  own  feelings; 
you  did  something  utterly  horrible  to  you.  And 
you  faced  all  the  trouble  and  grief  which  would  cer 
tainly  come  in  consequence  of  it.  Why,  Eve,  it  was 
the  bravest  thing  I  have  ever  heard  of." 

Eve  gave  a  long  sigh.  "I  have  been  so  un 
happy — " 

"Never    again,  I   hope,"  said    Paul;  "from    this 
moment  I  take  charge  of  you.     AVe  will  be  married 
as  soon  as  possible;  we  will  go  to  Charleston." 
21 


322  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

"Don't  let  us  talk  of  that.  Just  love  me  here; — • 
now." 

"  Well— don't  I  ?"  said  Paul,  smiling. 

He  found  a  little  nook  between  two  spurs  of  the 
thicket  which  had  invaded  the  beach;  here  he  made 
a  seat  for  her  with  a  fragment  of  wreck  which  had 
been  washed  up  by  the  sea. 

"  Let  us  stay  here  all  day,"  she  said,  longingly. 

"  You  will  have  me  all  the  days  of  your  life,"  said 
Paul.  He  had  seated  himself  at  her  feet.  "  We 
shall  have  to  live  in  Port  aux  Pins  for  the  present; 
you  won't  mind  that,  I  hope  ?" 

She  drew  his  head  down  upon  her  breast.  "  How 
I  have  loved  you  !" 

"  I  know  it,"  he  said,  flushing.  "  It  was  that  which 
made  me  love  you."  He  rose  (it  was  not  natural  to 
Paul  to  keep  a  lowly  position  long),  and,  taking  a  seat 
beside  her,  lifted  her  in  his  arms.  "  I'm  well  caught," 
he  murmured,  looking  down  upon  her  with  a  smile. 
"  Who  would  ever  have  supposed  that  you  could 
sway  me  so  ?" 

"  Oh,"  cried  Eve,  breaking  away  from  him,  "  it's 
of  no  use;  my  one  day  that  I  counted  on — my  one 
short  day — I  cannot  even  dare  to  take  that  !  Good 
women  have  the  worst  of  it  ;  if  I  could  pretend  that 
I  was  going  to  marry  you,  all  this  would  be  right; 
and  if  I  could  pretend  nothing,  but  just  take  it,  then 
at  least  I  should  have  had  it;  a  remembrance  for  all 
the  dreary  years  that  have  got  to  come.  Instead  of 
that,  as  I  have  been  brought  up  a  stupid,  good  wom 
an,  I  can't  change — though  I  wish  I  could  !  I  shall 
have  to  tell  you  the  truth  :  I  can  never  marry  you; 
the  sooner  we  part,  then,  the  better."  She  turned 
and  walked  northward  towards  the  Komney  road. 


JUriTEK    LIGHTS.  323 

With  a  stride  Paul  caught  up  with  her.  "  What 
are  you  driving  at?" 

(i  I  shall  never  many  you." 

He  laughed. 

She  turned  upon  him.  "You  laugh — you  have 
no  idea  what  it  is  to  me  !  I  think  of  you  day  and 
night,  I  have  longed  to  have  you  in  my  arms — on 
my  heart.  Xo,  don't  touch  me;  it  is  only  that  I 
won't  have  you  believe  that  I  don't  know  what  love 
is,  that  I  don't  love  you.  Why,  once  at  Port  aux 
Pins,  I  walked  miles  at  night  because  I  was  so  mad 
with  jealousy;  and  I  found  you  playing  whist !  If 
I  could  only  have  known  beforehand — if  I  could  only 
have  seen  you  once,  just  once,  Ferdie  might  have 
done  what  he  chose  with  Cicely;  I  shouldn't  have 
stirred  !" 

"  Yes,  you  would,"  said  Paul. 

"  No,  I  shouldn't  have  stirred;  you  might  as  well 
know  me  as  I  am.  What  I  despise  myself  for  now 
is,  that  I  haven't  the  force  to  make  an  end  of  it,  to 
relieve  you  of  the  thought  of  me — at  least  as  some 
one  living.  But  as  long  as  you  are  alive,  Paul — 
She  looked  at  him  with  her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
said  Paul,  sternly.  "You  will  live,  and  as  my  wife; 
we  will  be  married  here  at  Romney  to-morrow." 

"  Would  you  really  marry  me  here  ?"  said  Eve, 
the  light  of  joy  coming  into  her  wan  face. 

"  It's  a  tumble-down  old  place,  I  know.  But  won't 
it  do  to  be  married  in  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  much  harder  when  you  seem  to  for 
get, — when  for  the  moment  you  really  do  forget ! 
But  of  course  I  know  that,  it  could  not  last." 

"What  could  not  hist?" 


324  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

She  moved  away  a  step  or  two.  "  If  I  should 
marry  you,  you  would  hate  me.  Not  in  the  begin 
ning.  But  it  would  come.  For  Ferdie  icas  your 
brother,  and  I  did  kill  him  ;  nothing  can  alter  these 
facts — not  even  love.  At  first  you  wouldn't  remem 
ber;  then,  gradually,  he  would  come  back  to  yon; 
you  would  think  of  the  time  when  you  were  boys 
together,  and  you  would  be  sorry.  Then,  gradually, 
you  would  realize  that  /  killed  him  ;  whenever  I 
came  near  you,  you  would  see —  Her  voice  broke, 
but  she  hurried  on.  "  You  said  I  was  brave  to  do 
it,  and  I  was.  You  said  it  was  heroic,  and  it  was. 
Yet  all  the  same,  he  was  your  brother;  and  /killed 
him.  In  defence  of  Cicely  and  the  baby  ?  Nothing 
makes  any  difference.  I  killed  him,  and  you  would 
end  by  hating  me.  Yet  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  leave 
you;  once  your  wife,  I  know  that  I  should  stay  on, 
even  if  it  were  only  to  fold  your  clothes, — to  touch 
them;  to  pick  up  the  burnt  match-ends  you  had 
dropped,  and  your  newspapers;  to  arrange  the  chairs 
as  you  like  to  have  them.  I  should  be  weak,  weak — 
I  should  follow  you  about.  How  you  would  loathe 
me  !  It  would  become  to  you  a  hell." 

"  I'll  take  care  of  that,"  said  Paul;  "I'll  see  to  my 
own  hells;  at  present  I'm  thinking  of  something  very 
different.  We  will  be  married  to-day,  and  not  wait 
for  to-morrow;  I  will  take  you  away  to-night." 

Eve  looked  at  him. — "  Haven't  you  heard  what 
I've  been  saying  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  heard  it ;  it  was  rubbish."  But  something 
in  her  face  impressed  him.  "Eve,  you  are  not  really 
g<~  Jig  to  throw  me  over  for  a  fancy  like  that  ?" 

"No;  for  the  horrible  truth." 

"  My  poor  girl,  you  are  all  wrong,  you  are  out  of 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  325 

your  mind.  Let  us  look  at  only  one  side  of  it:  what 
can  you  do  in  the  world  without  me  and  my  love  as 
your  shield  ?  Your  very  position  (which  you  talk 
too  much  about)  makes  me  your  refuge.  Where 
rise  could  you  go  ?  To  whom  ?  You  speak  of  stay 
ing  with  Cicely.  But  Cicely — about  Ferdie — is  a 
little  devil.  The  boy  will  never  be  yours,  she  will 
not  give  him  to  you;  and,  all  alone  in  the  world,  how 
desolate  you  will  be  !  You  think  yourself  strong, 
but  to  me  you  are  like  a  child;  I  long  to  take  care 
of  you,  I  should  guard  you  from  everything.  And 
there  wouldn't  be  the  least  goodness  in  this  on  my 
part;  don't  think  that;  I'm  passionately  in  love  with 
yuu — I  might  as  well  confess  it  outright." 

Eve  quivered  as  she  met  his  eyes.  "  I  shall  stay 
with  Cicely." 

"  You  don't  care  whether  you  make  me  suffer  ?" 

"  I  want  to  save  you  from  the  far  greater  suffering 
that  would  come." 

"  As  I  told  you  before,  I'll  take  care  of  that,"  said 
Paul.  "You  needn't  be  so  much  concerned  about 
what  my  feelings  will  be  after  you  are  my  wife — I 
know  what  they  will  be.  Women  are  fools  about 
that  sort  of  thing — what  the  future  husband  may  or 
may  not  feel,  may  or  may  not  think  ;  when  he  has 
got  the  woman  he  loves,  he  doesn't  think  about  her 
at  all;  he  thinks  about  his  business,  his  affairs,  his 
occupations,  whatever  he  has  to  do  in  the  world.  As 
to  what  he  feels,  he  knows.  And  she  too.  There 
comes  an  end  to  all  her  fancies,  and  generally 
they're  poor  stuff."  Drawing  her  to  him,  he  kissed 
her.  "That's  better  than  a  fancy  !  Now  we  will 
walk  back  to  the  house;  there  is  a  good  deal  to  do 
if  we  are  to  be  married  this  afternoon — as  we  cer- 


326  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

tainly  shall  be;  by  this  time  to-morrow  it  will  be  an 
old  story  to  you — the  being  my  wife.  And  now 
listen,  Eve,  let  me  make  an  end  of  it;  Ferdie  was 
everything  to  me,  I  don't  deny  it;  he  was  the  dear 
est  fellow  the  world  could  show,  and  I  had  always 
had  the  charge  of  him.  But  he  had  that  fault  from 
boyhood.  The  time  came  when  it  endangered  Cice 
ly's  life  and  that  of  her  child;  then  you  stepped  for 
ward  and  saved  them,  though  it  was  sure  to  cost  you 
a  lifetime  of  pain.  I  honor  you  for  this,  Eve,  and 
always  shall.  Poor  Ferdie  has  gone,  his  death  was 
nobody's  fault  but  his  own;  and  it  wasn't  wholly 
his  own,  either,  for  he  had  inherited  tendencies 
which  kept  him  down.  He  has  gone  back  to  the 
Power  that  made  him,  and  that  Power  understands 
his  own  work,  I  fancy ;  at  any  rate,  I  am  willing  to 
leave  Ferdie  to  Him.  But,  in  the  meantime,  we  are 
on  the  earth,  Eve,  we  two, — and  we  love  each  other; 
let  us  have  all  there  is  of  it,  while  we  arc  about  it; 
in  fact,  I  give  you  warning,  that  I  shall  take  it  all  !" 

Two  hours  later,  Paul  came  back  from  the  main 
land,  wrhere  he  had  been  making  the  necessary  ar 
rangements  for  the  marriage,  which  was  to  take 
place  at  five  o'clock;  so  far,  he  had  told  no  one  of 
his  intention. 

A  note  was  handed  to  him.     He  opened  it. 

"It  is  of  no  use.  In  spite  of  all  you  have  said,  I  feel  sure 
that  iu  time  you  could  not  help  remembering.  And  it  would 
make  you  miserable  beyond  bearing. 

"Once  your  wife,  I  should  not  have  the  strength  to  leave 
you — as  I  can  now.  EVE." 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  327 


XXXIII. 

THE  judge  was  waiting  for  the  steamer  at  War 
wick  Landing.  Attired  in  white  duck,  with  his  boy 
Pomp  (Pomp  was  sixty)  waiting  respectfully  in  the 
background,  he  was  once  more  himself.  As  the 
steamer  drew  near,  he  bowed  with  all  his  old  court 
liness,  and  he  was  immediately  answered  by  the 
agitated  smile  of  a  lady  on  the  deck,  who,  with  her 
shawl  blowing  off  and  her  veil  blowing  out,  was  stand 
ing  at  the  railing,  timid  in  spite  of  her  fifty-three  years. 
It  could  be  no  one  but  Miss  Leontine,  who  had  come 
over  from  Gary  Hundred,  with  her  maid,  to  pay  a  visit 
to  her  dear  Sabrina  at  llomney.  The  maid  was  a  ne 
gro  girl  of  thirteen,  attired  in  a  calico  dress  and  sun- 
bonnet  ;  she  did  nothing  save  strive  to  see  how  far  she 
could  straddle  on  the  deck,  whose  flat  surface  seemed 
to  attract  her  irresistibly.  Miss  Leontine  carried  her 
own  travelling-bag.  Occasionally  she  would  say  : 
"Clementine,  shush!  draw  yourself  together  im 
mediately."  But  Clementine  never  drew  herself. 

The  judge  assisted  his  guest  to  disembark — she 
ambled  across  the  plank,  holding  his  hand ;  they 
drove  to  Romney  in  the  one-seated  wagon,  the  judge 
acting  as  charioteer.  Pomp  and  the  maid  were  sup 
posed  to  walk. 

"  Clementine,  whatever  you  do,  don't  cling  on  be 
hind,"  said  Miss  Leontine,  turning  her  head  once  or 

'  '  O 

twice  unseemingly,  to  blink  at  the  offender.  But 
Clementine  clung  all  the  way;  and  brayed  at  in 
tervals. 


328  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

The  judge,  in  his  present  state  of  joy,  almost  ad 
mired  Miss  Leontine, —  she  was  so  unlike  Parthenia 
Drone  !  "  Ah,  my  dear  Miss  Wingfield,  how  changed 
is  society  in  these  modern  days  !"  he  said,  flicking 
the  flank  of  the  mule.  "  In  my  time  who  ever  heard 
a  lady's  voice  three  feet  away  ?  Who  ever  knew  her 
opinions — if  she  had  any  ?  Who  ever  divined,  at 
least  in  the  open  air,  the  texture  of  her  cheek,  mod 
estly  hidden  under  her  bonnet,  or  saw  more  than  the 
tip  of  her  slipper  under  the  hem  of  her  robe  ?  Now 
women  think  nothing  of  speaking  in  public — at  least 
at  the  North;  they  attend  conventions,  pass  resolu 
tions,  appear  in  fancy-dress  at  Fourth  of  July  pa 
rades;  their  bonnets  for  the  most  part"  (not  so  Miss 
Leontine's)  "are  of  a  brazen  smallness;  and  their  feet, 
if  I  may  so  express  it,  are  the  centre  of  every  room  ! 
When  I  was  young,  the  most  ardent  suitor  could  ob 
tain  as  a  sign  of  preference,  only  a  sigh; — at  most 
some  startled  look,  some  smile,  some  reppurtee.  All 
was  timidity — timidity  and  retirement." 

Miss  Leontine,  in  her  gratification  at  this  de 
scription  of  her  own  ideal,  clasped  her  hands  so 
tightly  together  under  her  shawl  that  her  corset- 
board  made  a  long  red  mark  against  her  ribs  in  con 
sequence. 

As  they  came  within  sight  of  the  house,  a  figure 
was  walking  rapidly  across  the  lawn.  "  Is  that  Mr. 
Singleton  ?"  inquired  Miss  Leontine.  "  Dear  Nannie 
wrote  that  they  would  come  over  to-day." 

"  No,  that's  not  Singleton  ;  Singleton's  lame,"  said 
the  judge. 

"  And  yet  it  looks  so  much  like  him,"  murmured 
Miss  Leontine,  with  conviction,  still  peering,  with  the 
insistence  of  a  near-sighted  person. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  329 

"It's  a  man  named  Watson,"  said  the  judge,  de 
cidedly. 

Watson  was  a  generic  title,  it  did  for  any  one 
whom  the  judge  could  not  quite  see.  He  considered 
that  a  name  stopped  unnecessary  chatter, — made  an 
end  of  it  ;  if  you  once  knew  that  it  was  Watson  or 
Dunlap,  you  let  it  alone.  , 

In  reality  the  figure  was  that  of  Paul  Tennant. 
After  reading  Eve's  note  he  crushed  the  sheet  in  his 
hand,  and  turned  towards  the  house  with  rapid  stride. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  hall  ;  he  rang  the  parlor 
bell. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Miss  Bruce  is  ?"  he  asked, 
when  Powlyne  appeared. 

"In  her  room,  marse,  I  spex." 

"  Go  and  see.  Don't  knock  ;  listen."  He  paced  to 
and  fro  until  Powlyne  came  back. 

"Ain't  dere,  marse.  Nor  yet,  periently,  she  ain't 
in  de  house  anywhuz  ;  spex  she's  gone  fer  a  walk." 

"  Go  and  find  out  if  any  one  knows  which  way  she 
went," 

But  no  one  had  seen  Eve. 

"  Where  is  Mrs.  Morrison  ?" 

"  tike's  yere,  safe  enough.  I  know  whur  she  is," 
answered  Powlyne.  "  Mis'  Morrison  she's  down  at 
de  barf-house,  taken  a  barf." 

"Is  any  one  with  her?" 

"Dilsey;  she's  dere." 

"  Go  and  ask  Dilsey  how  soon  Mrs.  Morrison  can 
see  me." 

Powlyne  started.  As  she  did  not  come  back  im 
mediately,  he  grew  impatient,  and  went  himself  to 
the  bath-house.  It  was  a  queer  little  place,  a  small 
wooden  building,  near  the  sound.  It  seemed  an  odd 


330  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

idea  to  bathe  there,  in  a  tank  filled  by  a  pump,  when, 
twenty  feet  distant,  stretched  the  lagoon,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  island  the  magnificent  sea-beach, 
smooth  as  a  floor. 

Paul  knocked.  "  How  soon  can  Mrs.  Morrison 
see  me  ?" 

"  She's  troo  her  barf,"  answered  Dilsey's  voice  at 
the  crack.  "Now  she's  dess  a-lounjun." 

"  Tell  her  who  it  is  ; — that  it's  important." 

In  another  moment  Dilsey  opened  the  door,  and 
ushered  him  into  the  outer  room.  It  was  a  square 
apartment,  bare  and  rough,  lighted  oiily  from  above  ; 
its  sole  article  of  furniture  was  a  divan  in  the  cen 
tre  ;  an  inner  door  led  to  the  bath-room  beyond. 
Upon  the  divan  Cicely  was  lying,  her  head  prop 
ped  by  cushions,  the  soft  waves  of  her  hair  loose  on 
her  shoulders.  Delicate  white  draperies,  profusely 
trimmed  with  lace,  enveloped  her,  exhaling  an  odor 
of  violets. 

"Cicely,  where  is  Eve  ?"  demanded  Paul. 

"  Wait  outside,  Dilsey,"  said  Cicely.  Then,  when 
the  girl  had  disappeared,  "She  has  gone  to  Charles 
ton,"  she  answered. 

"  And  from  there  ?'•* 

"  I  don't  know." 

"When  did  she  start  !" 

"  Two  hours  ago." 

— "Immediately  after  leaving  me,"  Pan!  reflect 
ed,  audibly. 

"Yes." 

"  But  there's  no  steamer  at  this  hour." 

"  One  of  the  field  hands  rowed  her  up  to  May  port; 
there  she  was  to  take  a  wagon,  and  drive  inland  to 
a  railway  station." 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  331 

"  She  could  only  hit  the  Western  Road." 

"Yes;  but  she  can  make  a  connection,  farther  on, 
which  will  enable  her  to  reach  Charleston  by  to 
morrow  night." 

"I  shall  be  twelve  hours  behind  her,  then;  the 
first  steamer  leaves  this  evening.  You  are  a  traitor, 
Cicely  !  Why  didn't  you  let  me  know  ?" 

"  She  did  not  wish  it." 

"  I  know  what  she  wishes." 

"  Yes,  she  loves  you — if  you  mean  that.  But — I 
agree  with  her." 

"Agree  with  her  how  ?" 

"  That  the  barrier  is  too  great.  You  would  end 
by  hating  her,"  said  Cicely. 

"  I'm  the  judge  of  that !  If  any  one  hates  her,  it 
is  you;  you  constantly  torture  her,  you  are  merci 
less." 

"  She  shot  my  husband." 

"  She  shot  your  murderer  !  Another  moment  and 
Ferdie  might  have  killed  you." 

"  And  if  I  preferred  it  ?  At  any  rate,  she  had  no 
right  to  interfere,"  cried  Cicely,  springing  up. 

"Why  were  you  running  away  from  him,  then,  if 
you  preferred  it  ?  You  fled  to  her  room,  and  asked 
for  help;  you  begged  her  to  come  out  with  you." 

"It  was  on  account  of  baby,"  answered  Cicely,  her 
voice  like  that  of  a  little  girl,  her  breast  beginning 
to  heave. 

"  And  she  saved  your  child's  life  a  second  time- 
on  Lake  Superior." 

"  I  know  it  —  I  know  it.  But  you  cannot  ex 
pect—" 

"I  expect  nothing;  you  are  absolutely  unreason 
able,  and  profoundly  selfish." 


332  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

"  I'm  not  selfish.  I  only  want  to  make  her  suffer!*' 
cried  Cicely,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

Paul  looked  at  her  sternly.  "In  that  dress  you 
appear  like  a  courtesan;  and  now  you  talk  like  one. 
It  is  a  good  thing  my  brother  was  taken  off,  after 
all — with  such  a  wife  !" 

Cicely  sank  down  at  his  feet.  "  Oh,  don't  say 
that,  Paul;  it  is  not  true.  All  this — these  are  the 
things  that  are  underneath,  they  are  the  things  that 
touch  me;  you  never  see  them  when  I  am  dressed. 
It  is  only  that  I  always  liked  to  be  nice  for  him; 
that  is  the  reason  I  had  all  this  lace;  and  I  keep  it 
up,  because  I  want  him  to  think  of  me  always  as 
just  the  same;  yes,  even  when  I  am  old.  For  I  know 
he  does  think  of  me,  and  he  sees  me  too;  he  is  often 
here.  Listen, — I  can't  help  hating  Eve,  Paul.  But 
it  only  comes  in  little  whiffs,  now  and  then.  Sup 
posing  I  had  shot  her,  could  you  like  me,  after  that?" 
She  rose,  holding  up  her  hands  to  him  pleadingly. 
"  In  one  way  I  love  Eve." 

"  Yet  you  let  her  go  !  Heaven  knows  where  she 
is  now." 

He  turned  his  head  away  sharply.  But  she  saw 
his  tears.  "No,  Paul,"  she  cried,  terrified,  "she 
isn't  dead — if  you  mean  that;  she  told  me  once,  'As 
long  as  he  is  in  the  world,  I  want  to  live  !'  ' 

"  Well — I  shall  go  after  her,"  said  Paul,  control 
ling  himself.  He  turned  towards  the  door. 

Cicely  followed  him.  "  Say  good-by  to  me."  She 
put  up  her  face. 

He  touched  her  forehead  with  his  lips.  Then  he 
held  her  off  for  a  moment,  and  looked  at  her.  "  Poor 
child  !"  he  said. 

He  returned  to  the  house  for  his  travelling-bag;  he 


JUPITEB    LIGHTS.  333 

remembered  that  he  had  left  it  in  the  parlor  upon 
his  arrival,  five  hours  before. 

The  pleasant,  shabby  room,  as  he  opened  the  door, 
held  a  characteristic  group  :  Miss  Subrina,  gliding 
about  with  plum-cake;  the  judge,  pouring  cherry- 
bounce;  Mistress  Nannie  Singleton,  serenely  seated, 
undergoing  the  process  of  being  brushed  by  Clem 
entine  and  Powlyne,  who  made  hissing  sounds  like 
hostlers,  and,  standing  on  one  foot  in  a  bent  attitude, 
held  out  behind  a  long  leg.  Rupert  Singleton,  seat 
ed  in  the  largest  arm-chair,  was  evidently  paying 
compliments  to  Miss  Leontine,  who,  gratified  and 
embarrassed,  and  much  entangled  with  her  wine 
glass,  her  gloves,  and  her  plate  of  cake,  hardly  knew, 
to  use  a  familiar  expression,  whether  she  was  on  her 
head  or  her  heels.  Not  that  Miss  Sabrina  would 
have  mentioned  her  heels;  to  her,  heels,  shins,  and 
ribs  did  not  exist,  in  a  public  way;  they  were  almost 
medical  terms,  belonging  to  the  vocabulary  of  the 
surgeon. 

"I  beg  your  pardon;  I  think  I  left  my  bag  here," 
said  Paul. 

"  I  had  it  taken  to  your  room,"  answered  Miss  Sa 
brina,  coming  forward.  "  Powlyne,  go  with  Mr. 
Tennant." 

"  Let  her  bring  it  down,  please;  I  am  leaving  im 
mediately,"  said  Paul,  shaking  hands  with  his  host 
ess  in  farewell. 

The  judge  followed  him  out.  "Leaving,  did  you 
say?  But  you've  only  just  come." 

"  I  am  going  to  Charleston. — I  must  follow  Miss 
Bruce  without  a  moment's  delay." 

"lias  she  gone  !"  There  was  a  gleam  of  triumph 
in  the  old  Georgian's  eyes  as  he  said  this.  "  You 


334  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

will  find  Charleston  a  very  pleasant  place,"  he  add 
ed,  politely. 

XXXIV. 

"  DRIVE  to  the  New  York  steamer." 

"  She's  off,  boss.     Past  her  time." 

"  Drive,  I  tell  you." 

The  negro  coachman  cracked  his  whip,  his  two 
rawboned  steeds  broke  into  a  gallop  ;  the  loose- 
jointed  landau  behind  clattered  and  danced  over  the 
stones. 

"  Faster,"  said  Paul. 

The  negro  stood  up,  he  shook  the  reins  over  the 
backs  of  his  team  with  a  galloping  motion  that  cor 
responded  with  the  sound  of  their  feet;  in  addition, 
he  yelled  without  intermission.  They  swayed  round 
corners,  they  lurched  against  railings  and  other  car 
riages;  every  head  turned,  people  made  way  for  them 
as  for  a  fire-engine;  at  last  they  reached  the  harbor, 
and  went  clattering  down  the  descent  to  the  dock. 
Here  there  met  them  the  usual  assemblage  of  loiter 
ers,  who  were  watching  the  steamer,  which  was  al 
ready  half  a  mile  distant,  churning  the  blue  water 
into  foam  behind  her,  her  nose  pointed  straight  tow 
ards  Sumter. 

Paul  watched  the  line  of  her  smoke  for  a  moment; 
then  he  got  out  of  his  carriage,  paid  the  coachman 
mechanically,  told  him  to  take  his  luggage  to  the 
Charleston  Hotel,  and  walked  away,  unconscious 
alike  of  the  mingled  derision  and  sympathy  which 
his  late  arrival  had  drawn  from  the  group — boys 
with  market-baskets,  girls  with  baby-wagons,  slouch 
ing  mulattoes  with  fishing-tackle,  and  little  negroes 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  335 

of  tender  age  with  spongy  lips  and  bare  prehensile 
toes,  to  whose  minds  the  departure  of  the  steamer 
was  a  daily  drama  of  intensest  interest  and  excite 
ment. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done  until  evening,  when 
he  could  take  the  fast  train  to  New  York.  Paul 
went  to  the  Battery;  but  noticed  nothing.  A  band 
from  the  arsenal  began  to  play;  immediately  over 
all  the  windows  of  the  tall  old  houses  which  looked 
seaward  the  white  shades  descended;  Northern  mu 
sic  was  not  wanted  there.  lie  went  up  Meeting 
Street  ;  and  noticed  nothing.  Yet  on  each  side, 
within  sight,  were  picturesque  ruins,  and  St.  Mi 
chael's  spire  bore  the  marks  of  the  bomb-shells  of  the 
siege.  lie  opened  the  gate  of  the  church-yard  of 
the  little  Huguenot  church  and  entered;  the  long  in 
scriptions  on  the  flat  stones  were  quaint,  but  he  did 
not  read  them.  He  walked  into  the  country  by  the 
shaded  road  across  the  neck.  Then  he  came  back 
again.  lie  strolled  hither  and  thither,  he  stared  at 
the  old  Manigault  House.  Finally,  at  three  o'clock, 
he  went  to  the  hotel. 

Half  an  hour  later  an  omnibus  came  up;  waiters 
in  white  and  bell-boys  with  wisp-brushes  rushed  out, 
dusty  travellers  descended  ;  Paul,  standing  under 
the  white  marble  columns,  looked  on.  He  still  stood 
there  after  the  omnibus  had  rolled  away,  and  all  was 
quic-t,  so  quiet  that  a  cat  stole  out  and  crossed  the 
street,  walking  daintily  on  its  clean  white  paving- 
stones,  and  disappearing  under  a  wall  opposite. 

A  figure  came  to  the  doorway  behind,  Paul  be 
came  conscious  that  he  was  undergoing  inspection; 
he  turned,  and  scanned  the  gazer.  It  proved  to  be 
a  muscular,  broad-shouldered  man  of  thirty-five,  with 


330  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

a  short  yellow  beard  and  clumsy  features,  which 
were,  however,  lighted  by  keen  blue  eyes;  his  clothes 
were  dusty,  he  carried  a  travelling-bag  ;  evidently 
he  was  one  of  the  travellers  who  had  just  arrived, 
coming  from  the  Northern  train.  A  bell-boy  came 
out  and  looked  up  and  down  the  colonnade;  then, 
with  his  wisp-brush,  he  indicated  Paul. 

"  Dat's  him,  sail. — You  was  a-asking." 

"All  right,"  said  the  traveller.  Putting  his  trav 
elling-bag  on  a  bench,  he  walked  up  to  Paul.  "  Think 
I  know  you.  Mr.  Tennant,  isn't  it — Port  aux  Pins  ? 
Saw  your  name  on  the  book.  I'm  Dr.  Knox — the 
one  who  was  with  your  brother." 

Paul's  face  changed,  its  fixed  look  disappeared. 
"  Will  you  come  to  my  room  ?" 

"  In  twenty  minutes.  I  must  have  a  wash  first, 
and  something  to  eat.  Be  here  long  ?" 

"  I  go  North  at  six  o'clock." 

"All  right,  I'll  look  sharp,  then;  we'll  have  time." 

In  twenty  minutes  he  appeared  at  Paul's  door. 
The  door  was  open,  revealing  the  usual  bachelor's 
room,  with  one  window,  a  narrow  bed,  a  washstand, 
one  chair,  a  red  velvet  sofa,  with  a  table  before  it; 
the  bed  was  draped  in  white  mosquito  netting;  the 
open  window  looked  down  upon  a  garden,  where 
were  half  a  dozen  negro  nurses  with  their  charges — 
pretty  little  white  children,  overdressed,  and  chat 
tering  in  the  sweet  voices  of  South  Carolina. 

"  Curious  that  I  should  have  run  against  you  here, 
when  this  very  moment  I  am  on  my  way  to  hunt 
you  up,"  said  Knox,  trying  first  the  chair,  and  then 
the  sofa.  "I  landed  twenty-four  hours  ago  in  New 
York;  been  off  on  a  long  yachting  excursion;  start 
ed  immediately  after  your  brother's  death, — perhaps 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  337 

Miss  Abcrcrombie  told  you  ?  Whole  thing  entirely 
unexpected;  had  to  decide  in  ten  minutes,  and  go  on 
board  in  an  hour,  or  lose  the  chance;  big  salary,  ex 
penses  paid  ;  couldn't  afford  to  lose  it.  I'd  have 
written  before  starting,  if  it  had  been  possible;  but 
it  wasn't.  And  after  I  was  once  off,  my  eyes  gave 
way  suddenly,  and  I  had  to  give  them  a  rest.  It 
wasn't  a  thing  to  write,  anyway;  it  was  a  thing  to 
tell.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  in  any  case,  and 
such  kind  of  news  will  keep;  so  I  decided  that  as 
soon  as  I  landed,  I'd  come  down  here  and  find  out 
about  you  and  Miss  Abercrombie;  then  I  was  going 
up  to  Port  aux  Pins — or  wherever  you  were — to  see 
you." 

"I  suppose  you  can  tell  me — in  three  words — 
what  all  this  is  about,"  said  Paul,  who  had  not  seat 
ed  himself. 

"Yes,  easy.  What  do  you  suppose  was  the  cause 
of  your  brother's  death  ?" 

"  Pistol-shot,"  Paul  answered,  curtly. 

"No,  that  was  over,  I  had  cured  him  of  that;  I 
telegraphed  you  that  the  wound  wasn't  dangerous, 
and  it  wasn't.  No,  sir;  he  died  of  a  spree — of  a  se 
ries  of  'em." 

Paul  sat  down. 

"  I  say,  have  some  brandy?  No?  Well,  then  I'll 
go  on,  and  get  it  over.  But  don't  you  go  to  think 
ing  that  I'm  down  on  Ferdie;  I'm  not,  I  just  loved 
that  fellow;  I  don't  know  when  I've  seen  anybody 
that  took  me  so.  I  was  called  to  him,  you  know, 
after  those  negroes  shot  him.  'T wasn't  in  itself  a 
vital  wound;  only  a  tedious  one;  the  difficulty  was 
fever,  but  after  a  while  we  subdued  that.  Of  course 
I  saw  what  was  behind, — he  had  had  an  attack  of 


338  JUPITEK   LIGHTS. 

something  like  delirium  tremens;  it  was  that  which 
complicated  matters.  Well,  I  went  over  there  every 
day,  sometimes  twice  a  day;  I  took  the  biggest  sort 
of  interest  in  the  case,  and,  besides,  we  got  to  be 
first-rate  chums.  I  set  about  doing  everything  I  could 
for  him,  not  only  in  the  regular  line  of  business,  but 
also  morally,  as  one  may  call  it;  as  a  friend.  You 
see,  I  wanted  to  open  his  eyes  to  the  danger  he  was 
in;  he  hadn't  the  least  conception  of  it.  He  thought 
that  it  was  only  a  question  of  will,  and  that  his  will 
was  particularly  strong; — that  sort  of  talk.  Well, 
after  rather  a  slow  job  of  it,  I  pronounced  him  cured 
— as  far  as  the  wound  was  concerned;  all  he  needed 
was  rest.  Did  he  take  it  ?  By  George,  sir,  he 
didn't  !  He  slipped  off  to  Savannah,  not  letting  me 
know  a  gleam  of  it,  and  there  he  was  joined  by — 
I  don't  know  whether  you  have  heard  that  there  was 
a  woman  in  the  case  ?" 

Paul  nodded. 

"And  she  wasn't  the  only  one,  though  she  sup 
posed  she  was.  From  the  first,  the  drink  got  hold 
of  him  again.  And  this  time  it  killed  liim, — he  led 
an  awful  life  of  it  there  for  days.  As  soon  as  I 
found  out  that  he  had  gone — which  wasn't  at  once, 
as  I  had  given  up  going  over  there  regularly — I 
chased  up  to  Savannah  after  him  as  fast  as  I  could 
tear, — I  had  the  feeling  that  he  was  going  to  the 
devil !  I  couldn't  find  him  at  first,  though  I  scoured 
the  town.  And  when  I  did,  he  was  past  helping; — 
all  I  could  do  was  to  try  to  get  him  back  to  Rom- 
ney;  I  wanted  him  to  die  decently,  at  home,  and 
not  up  there  among  those —  Well,  sir,  he  died  the 
next  day.  I  couldn't  tell  those  women  down  there 
— Miss  Abercrombie,  Mrs.  Singleton,  and  her  aunt, 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  339 

Miss  Peggy.  They  were  all  there,  of  course,  and 
crying  ;  but  they  would  have  cried  a  great  deal 
worse  if  they  had  known  the  truth,  and,  as  there 
was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  it  for  any  one,  it  seemed 
cruel  to  tell  them.  For  good  women  are  awful  fools, 
you  know;  they  are  a  great  deal  harder  than  we  are; 
they  think  nothing  of  sending  a  man  to  hell;  they're 
awfully  intolerant.  'Tany  rate,  I  made  up  my  mind 
that  I'd  say  nothing  except  to  you,  leaving  it  to  you 
to  inform  the  wife  or  not,  as  you  thought  best. 
Then,  suddenly,  off  I  had  to  go  on  that  yachting 
expedition.  But  as  soon  as  I  landed  I  started;  and, 
here  I  am— on  the  first  stage  of  the  journey." 

Paul  did  not  speak. 

"  I  say,  do  you  take  it  so  hard,  then  ?"  said  Knox, 
with  an  embarrassed  laugh. 

Paul  got  up.  "  You  have  done  me  the  greatest 
service  that  one  man  can  do  another."  He  put  out 
his  hand. 

Knox,  much  relieved,  gave  it  a  prolonged  shake. 
"  Faults  and  all,  he  was  the  biggest  kind  of  a  trump, 
wasn't  he  ?  Drunkards  are  death  to  the  women — to 
the  wives  and  mothers  and  sisters;  but  some  of  'em 
are  more  lovable  than  lots  of  the  moral  skinflints 
that  go  nagging  about,  saving  a  penny,  and  grind 
ing  everybody  but  themselves.  The  trouble  with 
Ferdie  was  that  he  was  born  without  any  conscience, 
just  as  some  people  have  no  ear  for  music;  it  was  a 
case  of  heredity;  and  heredity,  you  know — " 

"  You  needn't  excuse  him  to  me,"  said  Paul. 


340  JUPITEK    LIGHTS. 


XXXV. 

OUTSIDE  of  a  walled  town  in  North  Italy  there 
stands,  on  a  high  hill,  an  old  villa,  which,  owing  to 
its  position,  is  visible  for  miles  in  every  direction. 
It  was  built  in  the  fourteenth  century.  Its  once 
high  tower  was  lowered  in  A.  D.  1423.  Its  blank  yel 
low  walls  are  long,  pierced  irregularly  by  large  win 
dows,  which  are  covered  with  iron  cages ;  massive 
doors  open  upon  a  square  court-yard  within ;  an 
avenue  of  cypresses  leads  up  the  bare  hill  to  the  en 
trance. 

Sixteen  days  after  the  conversation  between  Paul 
Termant  and  Edward  Knox,  three  persons  were  stand 
ing  in  the  court-yard  of  this  villa  behind  the  closed 
outer  doors.  The  court-yard  was  large,  open  to  the 
sky;  a  stone  shield,  bearing  three  carved  wolves,  was 
tilted  forward  on  one  of  the  walls;  opposite,  over  a 
door,  there  was  a  headless  figure  of  a  man  in  armor; 
a  small  zinc  cross  over  a  smaller  door  marked  the 
entrance  to  the  family  chapel.  In  one  corner  stood 
a  circular  stone  well,  with  a  yellow  marble  parapet 
supported  by  grinning  masks  ;  in  another  hung  a 
wire  cord  that  led  to  a  bell  above,  which  was  cov 
ered  by  a  little  turret  roof,  also  bearing  a  cross. 
There  were  no  vines  or  flowers,  not  a  green  leaf  ; 
the  yard  was  bare,  paved  with  large  stones,  which, 
though  ancient,  were  clean;  the  blades  of  grass  mark 
ing  the  interstices,  usual  in  Italy,  were  absent  here. 

Of  the  three  persons  who  stood  together  near  the 
well,  one  was  a  stout  wroman  with  a  square  face,  an 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  341 

air  of  decision  and  business-like  cheerfulness,  and 
pretty  hands  which  she  kept  crossed  on  her  black 
dress.  The  second  was  a  small,  thin  man  of  fifty. 
The  third  was  Paul  Tennant. 

"  I  have  heard  your  reasons,  I  am  not  satisfied  with 
them,"  Paul  was  saying  ;  "  I  must  insist  upon  see 
ing  her." 

"But  consider,  pray  —  when  I  tell  you  that  she 
does  not  wish  to  see  you,"  said  the  woman,  rubbing 
her  hands  together,  and  then  looking  at  them  in- 
spectingly. 

"  How  can  I  be  sure  of  that  ?" 

"  You  have  my  word  for  it." 

"  It  is  as  Mrs.  Wingate  says,"  interposed  the 
small,  thin  man,  earnestly.  His  voice  was  clear  and 
sweet. 

"  Miss  Bruce  may  have  said  it.  But  when  we 
have  once  met — 

"  Well,  I  think  I'll  go  in  now,"  interrupted  Mrs. 
Wingate,  giving  her  hands  a  last  rub,  looking  at 
them,  and  then  crossing  them  on  her  black  dress 
again.  "I've  given  you  twenty  minutes,  but  I've 
a  thousand  things  to  do;  all  the  clothes  to  cut  out — 
fancy  !  I  leave  you  with  Mr.  Smith.  Good-day." 

"Instead  of  leaving  me,  you  had  better  take  me 
to  Miss  Bruce,"  said  Paul. 

She  shook  her  finger  at  him.  "Do  you  think  I'd 
play  her  such  a  trick  as  that  ?"  She  crossed  the 
court,  opened  a  door,  and  disappeared. 

Paul  turned  impatiently  to  Mr.  Smith.  "There 
is  something  that  Miss  Bruce  must  know.  Call  her 
down  immediately." 

Mr.  Smith  was  silent.  Then  he  said  :  "  I  might 
evade,  but  I  prefer  not  to ;  the  lady  you  speak  of 


342  JUPITER   LIGHTS. 

has  asked  our  protection,  and  especially  from  you  ; 
she  is  soon  to  be  taken  into  the  Holy  Church." 

"  So  you're  a  priest,  are  you  ?"  said  Paul,  in  a  fury. 
"  And  that  woman  Wingate  is  your  accomplice  ? 
Now  I  know  where  to  have  you  !" 

Mr.  Smith  did  not  quail,  though  Paul's  fist  was 
close  under  his  nose.  "  I  am  not  a  priest;  Mrs. Win- 
gate  is  an  English  lady  of  fortune,  who  devotes  her 
life  to  charitable  works.  Miss  Bruce  came  to  us  of 
her  own  accord,  only  three  days  ago.  She  was  ill 
and  unhappy.  Now  she  is — tranquil." 

"  Is  she — is  she  alive  ?"  said  Paul,  his  voice  sud 
denly  beginning  to  tremble.  It  had  come  to  him 
that  Eve  was  dead. 

"  She  is.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  she  did  not 
wish  to  be  ;  but — but  it  has  been  represented  to  her 
that  our  lives  are  not  our  own,  to  cut  short  as  we 
please;  and  so  she  has  repented." 

"I  don't  believe  she  has  repented!"  said  Paul, 
with  inconsequent  anger.  He  hated  the  word,  and 
the  quiet  little  man. 

"  She  told  me  that  she  had  killed  some  one,"  Mr. 
Smith  went  on,  in  a  whisper,  his  voice,  even  in  a 
whisper,  however,  preserving  its  sweetness. 

"  See  here  !"  said  Paul,  taking  him  by  the  arm 
eagerly ;  "  that  is  what  I  have  come  for  ;  all  these 
months  she  has  thought  so,  but  it  is  a  mistake ;  he 
died  from  another  cause." 

"  Thank  God  !"  said  Mr.  Smith. 

"  Thank  God  and  bring  her  out,  man  !  She  is  the 
one  to  know." 

"  I'll  do  what  I  can.  But  it  may  not  be  thought 
best  by  those  in  authority  ;  I  must  warn  you  that  I 
shall  obey  the  orders  of  my  superior,  in  any  case." 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  343 

"Yet  you  don't  look  like  an  ass  !" 

"  Wait  here,  please,"  said  Mr.  Smith,  without 
noticing  this  comment.  He  opened  a  door  beside 
the  chapel  (not  the  one  by  Avhich  Mrs.  Wingate 
had  entered),  and,  going  in,  gently  closed  it  behind 
him. 

Paul  waited.  Five  minutes  passed.  Ten.  Fifteen. 
He  tried  all  the  doors  ;  they  were  locked.  He  went 
over  to  the  corner  where  the  bell-rope  hung  and 
pulled  it  twice;  "  cling-clang  !  cling-clang  !"  sounded 
the  bell  in  its  turret. 

In  answer  a  window  opened  above,  and  a  large, 
placid  Italian  peasant  appeared,  looking  at  him  ami 
ably. 

"Mr.  Smith?"  said  Paul 

"  Fuori." 

"  Mrs.  Wingate,  then  ?" 

"  Fuori." 

"There's  only  one  road — the  one  by  which  I  came 
up,  and  I  haven't  heard  any  carriage  drive  away  ;  if 
'Fuori'  means  out,  you  are  not  telling  the  truth; 
they  are  not  out,  they  are  hei'e." 

The  Italian  smiled,  still  amiably. 

"Is  there  any  one  here  who  speaks  English?"  said 
Paul,  in  despair. 

"  Ingleese  ?  Si."  She  went  off  with  the  same 
serene  expression.  Before  long  she  appeared  again 
at  a  door  below,  which  she  left  open  ;  Paul  could 
see  a  bare  stone-floored  hall,  with  a  staircase  at  the 
end. 

Presently  down  the  staircase  came  a  quick-step 
ping  little  old  woman,  with  a  black  lace  veil  on  her 
head;  she  came  briskly  to  the  door.  "I  hear  you 
wish  to  speak  to  me  ?" 


344  JUPITER  LIGHTS. 

"  You're  an  American,"  said  Paul.  "  I'm  glad  of 
that." 

"  Well,  you're  another,  and  I'm  not  glad  of  it ! 
Americans  are  limited.  Besides,  they  are  Puritans. 
My  being  an  American  doesn't  make  any  difference 
to  you,  that  I  know  of." 

"Yes,  it  does.  You  come  from  a  country  where 
no  one  is  shut  up." 

"  How  about  the  prisons  ?" 

"  For  criminals,  yes.     Not  for  girls" 

"  Girls  are  silly.  Have  nothing  to  do  with  them 
until  they  are  older  ;  that's  my  advice,"  said  the  old 
lady,  alertly. 

"  Do  you  know  Miss  Bruce  ?" 

"A  little." 

"Take  me  to  her." 

"I  can't,  she  is  in  retreat." 

"You  Avouldn't  approve  of  force  being  used  for 
any  one  ;  I  am  sure  you  would  not,"  said  Paul,  try 
ing  to  speak  gently. 

"  Force  ?  Force  is  never  used  here,  you  must  be 
out  of  your  mind.  If  you  do  not  see  Miss  Bruce, 
you  may  depend  that  it  is  because  she  does  not  wish 
to  see  you." 

"  She  would — if  she  could  hear  me  say  one  word!" 

"  No  doubt  you'd  cajole  her  !  I'm  glad  she  is 
where  you  can't  get  at  her,  poor  dear  !" 

"  She  was  to  have  been  my  wife  two  weeks  ago," 
said  Paul,  making  a  last  effort  to  soften  her. 

"  Well,  go  home  now  ;  she'll  never  be  your  wife 
this  side  the  grave,"  said  the  old  lady,  laughing. 

"  I'll  make  all  Italy  ring  with  it,  madam.  This 
old  house  shall  come  down  about  your  ears." 

"  Mercy  me  !     We're  not  Italians,  we're  English. 


JUPITER    LIGHTS.  345 

And  we've  got  a  government  protection  ;  it's  a  char 
itable  institution." 

"  For  inveigling  people,  and  getting  their  money  ! 
Miss  Bruce,  you  know,  has  money." 

"  I  didn't  know  a  thing  about  it — not  a  thing  ! 
Money,  has  she  ?  Well,  Ernestine  Wingate  does  like 
money;  she  wants  to  build  a  new  wing.  Look  here, 
young  man,  Father  Ambrose  is  coming  here  to-day  ; 
you  want  to  see  him.  He'll  do  what's  right,  he  is  a 
very  good  man  ;  and  he  commands  all  the  others  ; 
they  have  to  do  as  he  says,  whether  they  like  it  or 
not. — I  guess  you'd  better  not  hurry  away."  And, 
with  a  nod  in  which  there  was  almost  a  wink,  the 
American  convert  went  back  down  the  hall  and  up 
the  stairway,  disappearing  through  a  door  which 
closed  with  a  sharp  bang  behind  her. 

Paul  crossed  the  court-yard,  and,  opening  one  of 
the  great  portals,  he  passed  through,  shutting  it  be 
hind  him.  Outside,  attached  to  the  wall  of  the  villa, 
there  ran  a  long,  low  stone  bench,  crumbling  and 
overgrown  with  ivy;  he  sat  down  here,  and  remained 
motionless. 

An  hour  later  a  carriage  drove  up,  and  a  priest 
descended  ;  he  was  a  man  of  fifty-eight  or  there 
abouts,  tall,  with  a  fine  bearing  and  an  agreeable 
face.  Paul  went  up  to  him,  touching  his  hat  as  he 
did  so.  "  Are  you  going  in  ?" 

"That  is  what  I  have  come  for,"  answered  the 
priest,  smiling. 

The  doors,  meanwhile,  had  been  thrown  open;  the 
priest  passed  in,  followed  by  Paul. 

When  they  reached  the  court -yard  the  priest 
stopped.  "  Will  you  kindly  tell  me  your  business  ?" 

"It  concerns  Miss  Bruce,  an  American  who  has 


34G  JUPITER    LIGHTS. 

only  been  here  a  few  days.  She  came,  supposing 
that  the  death  of  my  brother  was  due  to  an  act  of 
hers;  I  have  just  learned  that  she  is  completely  mis 
taken,  he  died  from  another  cause." 

"  God  be  praised  !  She  has  been  very  unhappy — 
very,"  said  the  priest,  with  sympathy.  "  This  will 
relieve  her." 

"I  should  like  to  see  her. — The  whole  community 
can  be  present,  if  you  plea.se." 

"  That  will  hardly  be  necessary,"  said  Father  Am 
brose,  smiling  as^aiii.  He  went  towards  the  door  bv 

o       o  »- 

the  side  of  the  chapel.  "  I  will  tell  her  myself,  I 
will  go  at  once."  He  opened  the  door. 

"I  prefer  to  see  her.  You  have  no  real  authority 
over  her,  she  has  not  yet  taken  the  vows." 

"There  has  been  no  talk  of  vows,"  said  Father 
Ambrose,  waving  his  hand  with  an  amused  air. 
"Every  one  is  free  here,  I  don't  know  what  you  are 
thinking  of  !  If  you  will  give  me  your  address,  Miss 
Bruce  will  write  to  you." 

"  Do  you  refuse  to  let  me  see  her  ?" 

"  For  the  present — yes.  You  must  remember  that 
we  don't  know  who  you  are." 

"She  will  tell  you*." 

"  Yes;  she  is  very  intelligent,"  answered  the  priest, 
entering  the  doorway  and  preparing  to  mount  the 
stairs. 

But  Paul  knocked  him  down. 

Then  he  ran  forward  up  the  stairs  ;  he  opened 
doors  at  random,  he  ran  through  room  after  room  ; 
women  met  him,  and  screamed.  At  last,  where  the 
hall  turned  sharply,  Mr.  Smith  confronted  him.  Mr. 
Smith  was  perfectly  composed. 

"  Let  me  pass,"  said  Paul. 


JUPITER   LIGHTS.  347 

"In  a  moment.  All  shall  be  as  you  like,  if  you 
will  wait — " 

"  Wait  yourself  !"  cried  Paul,  felling  him  to  the 
floor.  Then  he  ran  on. 

At  the  end  of  the  hall  Mrs.  Wingate  stopped  him. 
Her  manner  was  unaltered;  it  was  business-like  and 
cheerful ;  her  plump  hands  were  clasped  over  her 
dress. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  "  no  more  violence  !  You'll 
hardly  knock  down  a  woman,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Forty,  if  necessary." 

He  thrust  her  against  the  wall,  and  began  trying 
the  doors.  There  were  three  of  them.  Two  were 
locked.  As  his  hand  touched  the  third,  Mrs.  Win- 
gate  came  to  his  side,  and  opened  it  promptly  and 
quietly. 

"  No  one  has  ever  wished  to  prevent  your  en 
trance,"  she  said.  "  Your  violence  has  been  unnec 
essary — the  violence  of  a  boor  !" 

Paul  laughed  in  her  face. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  room.  But  there  was  a 
second  door.  He  opened  it.  And  took  Eve  in  his 
arms. 


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